Morgengrauen
by DarknessIsTheUniverse
Summary: Hochstetter sends a spy to Stalag 13 to uncover Hogan s secret once and for all. The heroes must get rid of him him quickly.  Sequel to Sound of Thunder , Slash Hogan/Newkirk/OMC FINAL CHAPTER UP
1. Chapter 1

Hi there^^

Now I know I said there shouldnt be a sequel because it completely forfeits the message of the origional story, but I couldnt help it.

If you havent read The Sound of Thunder you should do that right about know for comprehension. This starts where we left of, still from Hogans POV.

The title is a word game which i couldnt ranslate into english so I´ll just explain it here:

Morgengrauen means dawn or daybreak, more literally in the gray of dawn. Therfore it symbolizes a new chance, a new morning for Hogan who thought he would never see another one. On the other hand Grauen also meansdread, so you can tell he doesnt wake up to marshmallows and butterflies.

That´s it from me. Let me know how you like it.

Btw, thanks to all tose who reviewed the previous story!

* * *

Morgengrauen

He remembered the darkness, remembered the despair it had brought being trapped in the Gestapo´s basement.

That night he had been sure would be his last. He hadn't expected to see light again. Until now, he hadn't. He wasn´t dead, but the darkness had not left him.

Hogan shifted uncomfortably against the damp wall of the dark cooler; his limbs mostly fallen asleep after not moving for what seemed like days. Not once since he´d been thrown in here had he tried to see in the faint glimmer of light which came from the door.

Beyond, he knew, was life, reality.

That's why he was content just sitting here in the darkness. He was dead; his life was supposed to have ended five days ago by Hochstetter´s hand. He had sacrificed everything for the life of his men, had thrown away his dignity and integrity along with his life, had let go of the last thing that still bound him to this world. He had been almost anxious to meet death´s blissful oblivion after that.

But death hadn't come.

Painfully, he closed his eyes as he remembered being dragged out into the court yard, the taste of Newkirk´s kiss still on his lips.

Hochstetter had waved some piece of paper in front of his face while his guard Weber was already loading his rifle. Then, surprising to everyone except Hogan, thunder filled the air and the buildings walls shook violently. So he lived to see his mission accomplished while, ironically, all he could seem to think of was the look in his corporal´s eyes as he left him in the cell.

At the explosion, the men instinctively threw themselves to the ground and when strong hands pulled him up afterwards it had not been Hochstetter´s, but Colonel Klink´s. The Commandant's bewildered expression, shifting between worry and anger was the last thing he could recall clearly.

Afterwards, everything pretty much blurred together.

Burkhalter had been yelling at Hochstetter incessantly until Hogan stopped listening and just stared into the rising sun instead. He remembered the cool breeze on his face, breathing the very essence of life.

Maybe, he thought now that he was more lucid again, it was that which had him react so apathetically. Life had suddenly been all around him while he had already bid farewell to it. It had been hard to swallow even though he should have been happy. Obviously, Klink and Burkhalter had noticed his very unusual demeanor because they hadn't pushed him, or asked too many questions about how he´d come to this point.

Neither had they asked his men, but that was also something that came to him only now. Maybe LeBeau had told them the essentials, making up some swift lies about their escape and Hochstetter´s insanity, given that Carter seemed to have passed out from pain and Newkirk was about as catatonic as Hogan himself. Hogan couldn't know for sure. He hadn't looked at any of them, trying desperately to vanish into thin air. He wasn't dead. He revealed his darkest secret thinking he wouldn't have to face the consequences, and now he was standing here not ten feet away from the men into whose eyes he would never be able to look again.

Maybe the German officers had simply assumed that Hochstetter's usual maniacal obsession with getting at Hogan had gone too far this time. Hogan didn't bother talking to them. He had let them usher him out of the building and into a waiting staff car, glad to get out. They were just starting when an ambulance parked next to them.

Worry hit him as a delayed reaction.

"My men…"; he had muttered, the only thing that could penetrate his mind at that moment. They were hurt. Badly so. And all he had thought about was his reputation. Guilt mixed with the rest of the raucous inside his head as he tried to push it all away unsuccessfully.

"They will be taken care of.", Klink had told him and gloved fingers had ever so shortly squeezed his arm. That was the last thing he´d said before returning to his stupor and remaining there until now.

In the cooler, Hogan was now staring at the cell´s door. He could hear heavy steps approaching. Moments later, Schultz´s heaved his bulky body towards him and opened the door.

"Colonel Hogan?", he asked almost hesitantly: "Colonel Hogan, please, I need you to answer me this time. It´s important."

Hogan blinked dazedly.

He couldn't seem to remember Schultz coming to talk to him before.

"What is it?", he finally asked, startled at how hoarse his own voice sounded. Had it really only been five days?

Schultz seemed incredibly relieved to have gotten an answer. He waltzed into the cell with a smile on his face: "Colonel Hogan, the Kommandant wants to see you now. Es ist wichtig. He says it´s been long enough and Burkhalter is here so…"

He groaned as he bent down to help Hogan up. The colonel let the guard practically pull him to his feet, for once not caring if he appeared weak. Right now, he needed all his energy just to keep from sinking back into the darkness. He was pretty sure he wouldn't be able to hear Schultz or anyone else from there. Maybe that wasn't such a bad idea after all…

But no, somewhere in the back of his mind there was a voice telling him he was needed. There was something he had to take care of…

"How are the guys, Schultz?", he asked as they slowly made their way to the exit. The feeling was beginning to return to his legs and -unfortunately so- to his brain as well. Memories and emotions that he had shoved as far away as possible during his holiday in the cooler were now returning with a vengeance. Images –Hochstetter's evil sneer, Carter passed out on the floor, LeBeau with broken bones, Newkirk almost to battered to stand, Newkirk with a rifle shoved into his face…

He shuddered and shook his head forcefully.

Expectantly he looked up at the big guard, knowing he wouldn't lie to him.

"You asked me this before, Colonel.", he was met with a concerned glance: "It´s all anyone got out of you for the last ten days…"

Hogan squinted his eyes as his mind reeled. He dint remember that either. Wait, ten days? Christ almighty, he really had to get a grip on himself. If he had been in here drowning in self pity for ten days already, that meant that his men had likely been forced to face the General´s questioning on their own. And if he still had to go and see Burkhalter that didn't say much for their credibility…

"They are doing fine.", Schultz told him truthfully when he didn't reply: "They had to get medical treatment here but they are recovering well."

Hogan nodded in relief. Now that he thought of it, he thought he could remember Klink telling him that they were safe. But had that been on the drive back? Or here in the cooler? He couldn't tell…

But now he knew they were probably already back in the barracks. No one had come to see him through the tunnel though and he had a pretty good idea why. He groaned unconsciously.

"How are you feeling?", Schultz asked him, the grip under his elbow tightening a bit: "You don't look so well, colonel…"

Truth was, he didn´t feel so well either. He shouldn't have gotten up so quickly. Or more accurately, he shouldn't have gotten back up at all. He should be taking a dirt nap right now, but as always one could count on Hochstetter to fuck up even the easiest task.

"Could I maybe sit down for just a minute, Schultz?, he asked: "Give my blood a chance to reach my legs and brain?"

Schultz half shook his head as he nervously looked towards the door but he stopped walking and let Hogan lean against the wall. "General Burkhalter is waiting for you."

"What´s he want?"

"To question you about the curious incident with Major Hochstetter. You weren't responsive after he almost…", the guard didn't finish the sentence, looking somewhat queasy now.

But Hogan didn't need more to understand. So the story wasn't over just yet. If Burkhalter was here it either had to be because he didn't believe the lies LeBeau and the others had told him or because Hochstetter had somehow managed to make his explanation of what had happened somewhat plausible. He would have to wait and see. In any case, he couldn't afford to be apathetic any more. He was still the Senior POW and responsible for taking care of his fellow men. He had gotten them into this mess and he would get them out. Whether they would be happy to see him again was an entirely different question. After what he´d done and said in his last moments spent with them he had no idea what their future looked like.

Would they still accept him in their midst? Much more as their leader?

Or would he have to leave and be replaced by London just to restore the peace? Among the guys, they had never talked much about the issue of homosexuality but the general consensus of their society was pretty clear even in the States, much more here under Hitler´s regime. To say it was frowned upon would be an understatement. And even if they did somehow accept it, their close relationship was bound to be destroyed. Every time they showered, every time he put his hand on one of his mens´ shoulders they would think of that night.

He closed his eyes tightly for a long moment. Apart from his family back home, these guys were the people that meant most to him. Losing them would devastate him. If only he had known for sure that Klink was going to bethere in time…but no, it would have been too late. Hochstetter had been about to shoot Newkirk.

"Is Hochstetter here too?", he inquired and Schultz declined. "No, Burkhalter was very cross with him for acting without his consent and he sent him to Berlin to be disciplined. He said he´d be back though."

"I´m sure he will.", Hogan scoffed.

He was feeling much more alive now than he had just minutes ago. It was probably a good thing considering he would have to con the two Germans successfully. No matter what happened later, he would have to get them out of the line of fire first before he could address his personal issues.

"Are you ready now?", Schultz asked impatiently and with a nervous glance at the door.

"As ready as ill ever be.", Hogan smiled grimly.

Schultz nodded as he guided the American officer into the compound. Hogan winced at the sudden brightness stinging in his weary eyes. They walked straight to the Kommandantur where Schultz announced their arrival.

"Ah, yes, do come in.", he heard Klink´s overly enthusiastic voice even before he saw him: "Hogan, I trust you´re feeling better. We have some questions that still need answering."

Hogan mentally steeled himself before he put on a poker face and fully entered the office. Burkhalter and Klink were standing by the desk, Klink as obviously nervous as Burkhalter was annoyed.

Before he could greet them, his gaze fell onto the other men standing at attention in a line just left of him. Neither LeBeau nor the others broke their stance to look at him which was lucky as Hogan felt his mask slip upon seeing them here. His heart skipped a beat and then went into overdrive while he felt heat rising in his neck.

Damnit. He had known he would have to face them eventually. He had just hoped it would not be so soon, not under the eyes of Burkhalter where there was no chance of speaking openly.

"Alright, Hogan.", Burkhalter snarled, interrupting his thoughts: "Now that you´re here, we can finally get the rest of the story, ja? Tell us what happened the night Major Hochstetter arrested you."

Hogan swallowed, suddenly feeling the gaze of every man in the room directed at him.

Death seemed pretty convenient right about now.


	2. Chapter 2

So, this Part 2. Questions, questions, questions...

Before I forget it, someone asked what language the title was in. It´s in German, which seemed convenient partly because the story is set in Germany and partly because I´m German which means I have quite the vocabulary in that language :-))

Thank you all for reading and reviewing.

* * *

„Well, Hogan, why don´t you answer my question?"; Burkhalter asked, his patience obviously worn thin by being forced to be in the same room as Klink for more than five minutes.

Hogan still felt them staring at him and instinctively straightened up, banning all emotions from his eyes so no one would see how he really felt.

With some effort he found back into his role, quipping as everyone would expect: "Why, General, I´m doing great, thanks for asking."

Klink flinched as a scowl formed on Burkhalter´s face.

"Don't be cute, Hogan. I don't have all day. Now, your men here have already told me what happened that night. Unfortunately, their version does not coincide with that of Major Hochstetter."

"Naturally.", Hogan shrugged: "The man is as nutty as a fruit cake."

He thought he saw the corners of Burkhalter´s mouth twitch a little, but if the general concurred with him he didn't let it keep him from prying further.

"Anyway. I would like to hear your version of the events for my report to Berlin."

"Of course. Well, we were trying to escape from Stalag 13…"

This time it was Klink that scowled at him but he ignored it as usually. More important now was that he didn't contradict his men. With no way to communicate with them, he chose to stick to the lie that seemed most convenient.

"We were outside the fence, walking through the forest to get away from camp when we ran into this German guy who was…taking a walk, I guess. We tried to ask him for help but he recognized us as POW´s and was about to turn us in when Hochstetter suddenly showed up. The German ran off in fear but we knew we had no shot at outwitting a SS Major so we surrendered."

So far Burkhalter seemed satisfied with his description. But then, that had been the easy part.

"He then took us into custody and had us transported to his headquarters where he interrogated us. I trust my men´s condition tells the story much better than I could."

He couldn't help the bitterness in his voice as he said it, but again no one seemed to take offense. Despite all their differences, the dislike of Hochstetter was mutual.

"Carry on.", Burkhalter insisted calmly while lighting one of Klink´s cigars.

"Well…", Hogan said slowly: "He…he went on about getting back at me for making a fool of him and threatened to kill my men unless I confessed to his ludicrous accusations. You've heard it, I´m sure. I, by myself, am bringing down the entire Third Reich with the help of Goldilocks and fairy dust which helps me to overcome the fences night after night to haunt him."

Burkhalter shook his head in silence, obviously too frustrated with his subordinate to snap at Hogan for his insolence. "You´d be surprised to know how close his version was to what you just said."

"I doubt it, sir."

So far, it seemed to be going well.

"Alright, Hogan. I´m willing to believe you were really trying to escape. You got your punishment for that during the last ten days and your men…well, we decided they had learned their lesson when we saw them."

"Thank you, General."

"However.", Burkhalter carried on: „There is one more thing I need to speak to you about, Colonel. To you and Corporal Newkirk here. Your other men are dismissed."

Hogan felt his heart sink. He should have known he wouldn't get away so easily. He took another deep breath as they waited for LeBeau and Carter to hurry out of the office. Next to him, Newkirk stood at attention, still not making a single sound.

If he was nervous, he didn't let it show in his posture. His face maybe, but Hogan still couldn't bring himself to look at that. It would have to wait before he betrayed his own words with his facial expression.

"So, Hogan.", Burkhalter was looking at them both, now somewhat uncomfortable himself: "Major Hochstetter and his guards said you finally agreed to confess to his accusations."

"I had no choice, sir; it was either that or let him kill my men. So I decided to give him what he wanted."

Burkhalter nodded slowly while chewing on his cigar. It was impossible to read his expression. Klink fidgeted nervously somewhere in the background while everyone ignored him.

"Very brave of you, indeed, colonel.", he said at last: "But that's not what I'm getting at. I'm sure you know what I am talking about without me having to say it."

Hogan felt Newkirk shift restlessly next to him but didn't dare to glance at the man. He himself stood as confident as ever, his clenched fists the only outward sign of his tension. He remained silent, waiting for Burkhalter to say something. If he could help it, he sure as hell wouldn't bring _that _up.

The generals scowl deepened but then he shrugged:

"Fine. If you insist, I´ll ask you outright, Colonel. Hochstetter reported seeing you…uhm, being affectionate toward your corporal here. Care to elucidate?"

There it was. The moment he´d been dreading.

No matter what these Germans would think of him personally, as far as he knew they were bound by law to report him and Newkirk if they even suspected them being _affectionate. _There was only one thing he could do.

Lie.

Lie and con and twist things around, then lie some more, just like he always did.

Ten days ago he had been prepared to leave life as a free man. Now he was truly caught once more. Figuratively and literally. There was no way around it.

"General…what Hochstetter told you is the truth. I did kiss Newkirk.", he paused shortly as Klink gasped, putting a hand over his mouth in shock.

Then he forced himself to go on with the hard part before the last sentence sunk in too much: "I had to."

Burkhalter´s eyebrows arched in surprise which was probably better than outright hostility. No one said a word as they all waited breathlessly for Hogan to continue.

"You see, even after I had consented to giving him what he wanted, he was still going to shoot Newkirk…thinking I didn't want him to get shot because he had information concerning my alleged espionage. That of course being nonsense, I had no way left to convince him to leave him alone. So I…I must say I panicked and did the only thing I could think of in that moment. I pretended to…to have romantic feelings for Newkirk so Hochstetter would let up. I figured he was going to shoot me anyway, and it worked. Sorry to have confused you."

"So you aren't…?", Burkhalter asked cautiously.

"Of course not.", he replied with more force than necessary: "I never would have done something like that if I had thought there was any other way."

Now, that _was_ true, as twisted as his words were. He probably never would have kissed Newkirk if he hadn't been pushed like that. Still it turned his stomach to form those words, to have to return to being a hypocrite.

"I see.", Burkhalter murmured after a moment. "I´m sorry you had to go through that, Colonel."

And that seemed to be it. Had it really worked? They just believed him? Hogan carefully kept quiet and simply nodded.

"Alright then, Hogan.", Burkhalter got up and waved casually towards the door: "You may go. I hope you will refrain from any further escape attempts in the future."

Hogan nodded hastily and headed for the door with Newkirk at his heels before Klink could launch into one of his perfect-escape-record-speeches.

Outside on the compound he drew in a quick breath before heading straight for the barracks. Still he could not bring himself to look Newkirk in the eye.

They crossed the compound in silence and slipped into the barracks to escape the Germans' watchful gaze.

Once inside he looked around to find some prisoners hanging out on the bunks, reading and chatting as usual. They saluted him casually when they noticed him, happy to see him return safely.

So they had no idea. Yet.

He looked around for his gang only to find the door to his office slightly ajar. Quickly he strode over there, more feeling than seeing that Newkirk was still behind him.

He opened the door to find LeBeau, Carter and Kinch standing around his desk, the wired coffee pot in the middle. Their heads snapped up in unison as he entered, staring at him intently. Behind him, Newkirk closed the door.

"So, you were listening in.", Hogan said bleakly.

* * *

And.. cliffhanger! To be honest, cliffhangers are what I like best about writing. Only my own of course, with other stories they unnerve me just as much as the next person :-)).

So it looks like this story will be longer than I planned, there is too much that needs to be adressed. After all, there has to be a plot apart from Hogan´s crush on Newkirk. Writing anything that´s not purely drama or romance is always hard for me because it involves so much planning, but I´ll do my best at creating an acceptable story arc. And I´ll just make the chapters shorter I guess.

Alright: Everyone in favor of Hochstetter coming back, raise your hands! :-))


	3. Chapter 3

Alright, here is chapter 3, Hogan´s talk with the men and some Hochstetter action. Hope you enjoy it. Please review.

* * *

With the door falling shut behind Hogan, the room lapsed into silence. Even though it was the last thing he wanted to do, Hogan forced himself to look into the eyes of every one of his men.

Even after almost two weeks, there were still some signs of Hochstetter´s abuse visible. Carters face was still pretty banged up but he seemed to have no trouble moving his jaw from what he could tell; LeBeau stood a little askew, holding his shoulder in a way that made it seem like it was still hurting but he, too, looked well enough.

Kinch was obviously fine and Hogan couldn't bring himself to turn around to see if Newkirk looked out of the ordinary. It was unlikely that he was completely healed already but he had seemed to have no trouble walking over here.

There was no obvious aversion coming from either of them as far as he could tell, just a certain amount of apprehension coupled with the stretched out silence which was quickly becoming awkward.

Hogan debated whether he should repeat his non-question, but LeBeau finally beat him to it.

"Mon Colonel.", he said, smiling at him, even though it seemed a little strained: "I´m glad you finally got out of the cooler." Kinch and Carter mumbled something in accordance, but still nobody moved.

"I´m glad you guys are okay, too.", Hogan went along with their pretence of normality for the moment, wishing he couldn´t feel the tension between them so clearly. But it was there, whether they acknowledged it or not.

"So we heard what you told Burkhalter.", Kinch said almost cautiously, fiddling absentmindedly with the wires on the coffee pot. Clearly they wanted him to verify it again. But could he? Should he? Hogan didn't respond for a long moment. He was torn between the urge to stay true to himself and the overwhelming need to feel as one of them again.

"Yeah.", he finally phrased his words cautiously: "He believed me."

It was up to them if they would, too. If they asked him to his face he would not have the strength to lie. Stay silent, maybe…but lie, no.

He didn't need to. They made the decision for him.

"And boy am I glad you cleared…_that_ up….that sure woulda been awkward.", Carter piped up, just to be immediately elbowed in the ribs by LeBeau.

"Carter!", the little Frenchman hissed.

"Sir.", Carter corrected himself while rubbing his side and shooting a dirty look at his friend.

As though that had been the issue.

"What Carter here is trying to say is…", LeBeau said slowly: "We just want you to know…we are all very grateful for what you did in order to save us, colonel. Without you we might be dead right now and we cannot express how much we appreciate that you were willing to sacrifice yourself in order to save us. We´ve talked about it a lot while you were gone and the more we think about it the more we realize just how much you've done."

Hogan bit his lip. On one hand he was extremely relieved that the guys were just going to let the issue go like that, that they willingly accepted his half-truths. On the other hand, there was still this feeling of nausea threatening to turn his stomach as he debated lying on and on for the rest of this war, the rest of his life even. But it would make things so much easier for everyone.

And they wanted to believe his story, he knew that. If they had really bothered to allow any doubt about it they would have seen the traitorous look on his face right away.

"Don't mention it.", he heard himself say in the best imitation of his normal voice he could muster: "Let´s just not do that again shall we?"

He pulled up the corners of his mouth just like he would have in order to grin at them; as it was, it felt like he was painfully overstraining his facial muscles.

No one seemed to notice.

The tension in the room seemed to let up a bit after this and LeBeau and Carter scurried over to him in their usual manner, crowding around him.

"So, mon colonel, what are we going to do about Hochstetter?", LeBeau asked, rubbing his hands together: "Surement he won't give up so easily."

Hogan shook his head, quickly falling back into his role as acting colonel: "He´s been sent to Berlin for now, but yeah, he´ll be back soon enough. And in no happy mood I would guess."

As they continued to talk strategy, Hogan had no idea just how right he was with his assumption.

* * *

Major Hochstetter practically stormed out of his superior´s office as soon as he dared to leave. Internally he was fuming.

That bastard of a colonel would pay for playing him like that.

A few days ago he had been closer than ever to his long-desired victory over Hogan, now he was back to zero with the addition of some very pissed of generals watching his every move. As much as he wanted to, he could not strike back immediately.

At least not in person.

Hochstetter entered his office, contemplating the idea that had come to him while retelling his version of what had happened for the umpteenth time. He picked up the telephone: "Hochstetter here, send Captain Richter in here immediately."

He hung up, the first smile in days beginning to form on his face. Yes, that might just work on several levels. He would get the information he wanted about Stalag 13 and he would get back at Hogan and his criminal gang.

The door opened and a tall man in the usual black uniform entered, saluting him. "Ah, Captain. Close that door behind you. I have an assignment for you which you will find quite enjoyable, I´m sure."

* * *

Night had fallen over Stalag 13 hours ago and all men in barracks two were sleeping soundly in the main room. The only light came through the crack in the door which led to the Senior POW´s office.

For hours, it seemed, Hogan had been sitting at his desk staring right through the woody surface. As much as he wanted to, he had not been able to fall asleep. It seemed that since he had forced himself to resurface from his trancelike state in the cooler, his mind had gone into overdrive, catching up on everything he´d let slide for the past days. There was work to do, missions to plan that had been put on hold due to their internment, but he couldn't seem to focus.

All that ran through his mind were the same scenes over and over again. The moment he had realized he was free from all pretence, quickly followed by the bitter realization that this time around he had to lie again in order to protect everyone. It didn't feel nearly as good.

Hogan sighed heavily and suppressed a yawn. At least, his relationship with the men hadn't suffered. He was pretty sure Carter and LeBeau really believed he had played Hochstetter concerning the kiss. With Kinch he could never be too sure, his second in command was much more perceptive. But he would have said something by now, Hogan was sure.

So all that left was Newkirk. For the British corporal, the whole affair was much more personal obviously, him being the one that spent at least half an hour thinking Hogan was in love with him.

Now, from what LeBeau had said it sounded like the men had come to the conclusion that it had been a decoy pretty soon after their return here. How long had it taken Newkirk to realize that?

Hogan remembered vividly how shaken the corporal had been by his confession. He must have been mighty glad to see that cleared up by his comrades. So, maybe he believed the lie just like the others had. If he did, Hogan wouldn't know, not having dared to look at him all day.

Maybe he was overreacting. But then, there was no denying that Newkirk was a bright man. And if his utter despair in the face of doom was any indication of how Hogan´s face must have looked when he´d made his confession, _hell_…

He had never been more serious about anything in his whole life. All his emotions had been in his eyes and words, in his kiss. Newkirk was a con artist just like him, maybe even better: If he couldn't tell a lie from the truth, who could?

Hogan jerked slightly when there was a light knock on the door. He turned around to see it slightly ajar with Newkirk standing just outside the frame.

"You got a minute, sir?"

* * *

Done :-))

this chapter was nessecary for the story arc even if nothing happened much.

i dont like the idea of Hogan going back to lying, but its just for now...

also it kind of is what Hogan is best at. He is a con artist in a way, so why would it seem illogical for him to lie about more personal things as well.

As for Richter, I kinda needed a villain, but i wanted someone better looking than hochstetter. you´ll see why :-))


	4. Chapter 4

"You got a minute, sir?"

Hogan´s heart skipped a beat upon hearing the voice that frequently haunted his dreams. Quickly, he made an effort to compose himself and nodded.

"Sure, Newkirk. Come on in."

Newkirk complied and then stood by the door somewhat awkwardly. Now that Hogan had no choice but to look at him, his expression seemed unfathomable. Despite the late hours he wasn't wearing his night gown but his usual blue sweater and pants.

As with Carter, there were still faint traces of bruises left on his face, their light green morbidly matching the color of his eyes. It brought back images of Weber inflicting those injuries and Hogan shuddered inwardly.

He felt the urge to get up and hug the corporal tightly, to make sure it wasn't all just a dream, but he restrained himself. If this were one of his dreams, Newkirk wouldn't have that look on his face.

"Mite late to still be up, innit?", the corporal finally asked lamely with a smile that seemed forced. It was obvious he wanted to say something specific, but he seemed at a loss of words…

Hogan, who had been about to lose himself in misplaced musing, snapped back to attention. "I had a lot on my mind.", he answered vaguely.

He was beginning to wonder if the man would ever cut to the chase or if he would just stand there talking about the weather all night. Not that he would mind being able to stare at him while he did so.

"That's what I thought. Mind if I join you for a bit?"

"Not at all."

He tried not to let his frustration show when Newkirk nodded but barely took half a step forward. Well. It looked like Newkirk wasn't as blind as the others after all. That made it pretty obvious why he was now standing here in his office.

"It´s about the night we got caught, I…", he chewed on his lip, obviously every bit as caught in his conflicting emotions as Hogan had been and still was: "About what you did…"

Hogan sighed. This wasn't going anywhere.

"What about it?", he made himself prompt the man. Whatever he was about to hear, prolonging it wouldn't make anything better. No, better to get it over with. Ripping of the bandage and all that…

"Well, I´ve been thinking about it and what you did, it was…well, it was bloody reckless and insane, that's what it was!", by the end of the sentence he was almost yelling, and his eyes were suddenly ablaze.

Hogan just sat there, surprised by his sudden outburst, while Newkirk was obviously trying to reign in his temper. Hogan was growing irritated. After what he´d done, he had expected Newkirk to be angry -along with appalled and disgusted- but now he wasn't quite sure if they were talking about the same thing anymore.

"What?", he asked, his brows furrowing.

"You know what!", Newkirk hissed, a little quieter but still crossly.

He stalked closer to Hogan just as he usually did while arguing with the man, apparently forgetting his prior reservations: "You deliberately gave Hochstetter reasons to shoot you when it wasn't necessary!"

The way he cut into him was so familiar to their former relationship that it actually helped Hogan take his mind off his feelings a bit and think more rationally.

So Newkirk was just angry about him being reckless? Maybe he had overestimated his perception after all.

However, he hadn´t bothered listing all the reasons for shooting Hogan, likely because he was still tiptoeing around the kiss. So the colonel figured that if Newkirk could just wildly pull accusations out of his hat, he wouldn't have to bother going into detail about all the reasons his actions had been necessary either.

Of course, he had had no other choice, even if this whole kissing business hadn´t come up would he have come up with something to get his men out of the line of fire at his expense. They both knew that.

So why was Newkirk really angry? It could only be his love confession.

"So, you came in here to tell me I´m an idiot?", Hogan probed tensely. The commanding tone which would have had any other man in camp back off did nothing to repel the brit.

"Either that or a rotten liar.", Newkirk replied without glee: "Sir."

Normally he should have been angry at the disrespect, but firstly, it wasn't like he wasn't used to it coming from Newkirk, and secondly, he wasn't about to change the subject again now that they were just closing in on the real issue.

"What exactly are you angry about?", he insisted sternly.

"You have to ask?", Newkirk wasn't half as composed as him. With the rapidly changing emotions flickering across his face, it was hard to tell whether he was more furious, worried or just profoundly confused and shaken.

"You literally signed your death warrant, leaving us with all the survivor´s guilt! You left me thinking I had you on me conscience!"

Hogan didn't know if he should laugh or cry. In a way, he felt incredibly relieved that Newkirk´s biggest problems seemed to be his colonel´s hero-complex. On the other hand, he couldn't be sure that that was really all there was to it.

"You´re mad because I was willing to die for my men?", he lifted an eyebrow incredulously: "Lebeau and Carter didn´t seem to mind. It´s what we do…"

He had barely finished the sentence when Newkirk´s palm connected harshly with the desk´s surface, slamming into the wood just inches from Hogan's elbow.

"Well, perhaps that's because you didn't bloody kiss ´em!", he hissed furiously: "You didn´t tell ´em you loved ´em and then went off to get yourself shot for it!"

In retrospective, he wasn't quite sure what did it: The obvious guilt and fear for his life that Newkirk barely concealed with anger, or the fact that he hadn't started calling him derogative terms yet. Anyway, instead of explaining his motives any further he just said:

"I´m sorry."

"Sorry about what?", Newkirk snarled, irritated that the colonel wasn't defending his actions as usually.

"Making you feel guilty like that.", Hogan answered simply. That really was the only thing he thought he needed to be sorry for. On an intellectual level at least…

"That's all?", the corporal scowled, his eyes darkening: "You´re not sorry for what you did then?"

Hogan could barely keep from flinching at his words. He had known it was coming all along. He would ask him about the kiss and then he would look at him with disgust and alienation. He had known it would happen.

That didn't mean he was ready for it. That's why he hadn't said it until he was sure he wouldn't have to face the consequences. Seeing as that had gone incredibly well…

This was it. The moment of truth.

When Hogan didn't answer, Newkirk, his jaw set, pushed him further: "You haven't told me what you are yet, sir. A liar or an idiot."

Hogan returned his angry gaze with calm eyes. Even now he couldn't help but notice how beautifully those green irises sparkled in the dim light. Somehow, he couldn't bring himself to feel angry, instead he let resignation take over for his anxiety. It was up to Newkirk now. If he didn't let it go, he would have to live with the truth.

"Don't ask questions if you don't want hear the answer.", he said calmly, a warning that almost sounded like a plea.

As per usual; Newkirk ignored his advice.

"Did you lie to Hochstetter?", he demanded.

Hogan didn't blink as he looked him straight into the eye. "Only about our mission.", he said without hesitation.

Newkirk fell silent and Hogan watched with some concern as he seemed to pale right before his eyes. He watched the realization sink in once more, waited for the inevitable.

But Newkirk didn't yell. He didn't run off. He just stood there absently shaking his head, as if he was reliving certain memories before his eyes.

"So I was right.", he murmured quietly. Hogan didn't dare answer.

"I thought…I hoped, Louis was right…but it just didn't match the way you looked at me when…", he cursed silently under his breath and ruffled through his dark hair with one hand.

When he looked at Hogan again, he seemed almost desperate: "But Tiger! And Hilda! I…"

Hogan merely shrugged: "They were convenient distractions."

Newkirk nodded slowly, his eyes glazing over slightly and Hogan was almost sure he was going through every scene since they´d met in his head. Every innocent little comment and gesture, every look that he could see in a whole new light now that the truth was out.

When he focused on Hogan´s face again, he looked seriously upset. Yet he still didn't leave.

"´Ave you -oh, bloody hell, I mean ´ave you always been… felt that way…?"

"Never. Not about anyone."

He wanted to say more, to add that that included women as well, that he was talking about love, the kind that you didn't believe in until it hit you in the face like a bucket of icy water. But he knew that Newkirk was asking about the physical aspect, the general tendency.

"I…well, you think it´s got to do with this camp then? I mean it gets…lonely…"

It was difficult to say why Newkirk had so much trouble wording his thoughts, whether it was just the general discomfort at knowing Hogan wanted him in at least one way, or something else.

As it was, Hogan was surprised the man was even still standing here, trying to make sense of him at all. He briefly thought he saw something more glinting in those deep eyes, a hint of something else he couldn't quite make out. He sure hoped it wasn't pity; that would be worse than everything else combined…

Now, though, what was most prominent about the corporal standing by the door was his discomfort mixed with a faint hope that Hogan might agree with his words.

"To be honest, I don't think so.", Hogan negated: "In that case, I´m pretty sure it would not be confined to just one person."

"So, Louis and Andrew or Kinch, you…they…"

"Christ, what are you thinking…?", Hogan hoped he looked as appalled as he sounded.

In truth, the idea probably wasn't so far-fetched; still the mere idea of what Newkirk was implying caused him disconcertment. They were his comrades, brothers at best, but to think of them like that…

He shook his head fiercely as if to chase away those dismaying thoughts. Newkirk blinked at his sudden outburst, yet he suddenly seemed somewhat less sullen.

"So it´s just between you and me then.", he said softly, as if he was speaking to himself. Hogan looked at him in confusion, not sure what he was talking about.

What was between them? His secret? Was Newkirk implying he wouldn´t say anything?

"You´re not mad?", he choked out incoherently. It wasn't what he really wanted to ask but his corporal seemed to understand. His anger had long since evaporated, now he just looked exhausted and somewhat lost.

"I won´t lie to you, gov´nor. You scared the livin´ daylights out of me in that first moment. Thought that Kraut had hit me head too hard…But looking at you then…and now…I know love and I know it´s not something you choose to feel."

His eyes softened slightly and a small smile appeared on his face: "I can´t say I won´t think about it when I see you from now on…but what´s most important is that when I look at you I see an officer who was willing to lay down his life for his men over and over again. You´re a great man and something like this doesn't change that, no matter what everyone says."

He walked towards the door, grabbing the knob. Before leaving he turned around once more to look at his stunned colonel. He gave him a small smile while it was still obvious that he was far from being as calm as he pretended to be.

"Don't worry too much, sir. Just remember what I told you. And if I don't shower with you from now on I want you to know it has nothing to do with who you are as a person."

What was probably meant to lighten the mood was dimmed by the frown that wouldn't seem to leave his face.

Then he was gone and Hogan sat alone in his office, too stunned to even blink for a long time. Had that really just happened? Did it mean Newkirk was okay with him being…?

Sure, there was still some underlying tension there but it seemed that he wasn't going to use his knowledge again Hogan.

The Colonel sat there contemplating for a long time. What did this mean for him? For them, and the rest of the men?

That night he was torn between unsettling dreams about guns and breaking bones, less -or more- unsettling ones about former and possible new encounters with a certain English man, and staring at the ceiling.

Dawn just didn't seem to come.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5 is up. This is where the actual action story line starts, if you wanna call it that.

have fun reading:-)

* * *

Just as everything seemed to be back to normal at Stalag 13, Hochstetter´s newest plan was set into action not too far away. The men of barracks two first learned about it when Kinch´s urgent calls woke them with a start. They sat up groggily on their bunks just as the sergeant climbed out of the tunnel.

"New orders from London.", he told them as he hurried over to Colonel Hogan´s office.

Hogan, who had been woken up by the raucous outsides stepped out of his office just as Kinch was about to knock.

There were dark shadows under his eyes but he looked as serious as ever. Briefly, his eyes locked with those of a certain British corporal whose cheeks turned slightly red as he remembered their talk last night, then they both got down to business.

"What is it, Kinch?", he asked, while the usual gang crowded around him.

"London wants us to blow up an ammunitions factory near camp.", the tall sergeant reported and handed Hogan the instructions. Hogan gave them a cursory glance: "No, big deal.", he shrugged: "We can do it the night after tomorrow. Carter, we´ll need…"

"Not so fast, colonel:", Kinch interrupted: "They want us to steal the blueprints to whatever it is they´re building first and send them back to England."

Hogan studied the note with furrowed brows: "Well, then we´ll have to…"

He was interrupted when the barrack´s door flew open and Schultz barged in. "Roll call everybody! Raus! Raus! Schnell!"

The men groaned in unison as they shuffled outside slowly into the brisk morning.

„Alright, we´ll talk about this later.", Hogan murmured and unthinkingly put a hand on Newkirk´s back to usher him towards the door. He was taken aback when he felt the man stiffen. But before he could even withdraw his hand, Newkirk had composed himself.

"Right, sir.", he murmured and shot the colonel an apologetic look before following the others.

Hogan stood in place for a moment longer. A sharp tug at his heart wiped away the last bit of grogginess. With everything else going as normal, he had almost forgotten that it only appeared to be so.

He knew that Newkirk hadn't meant to alienate him; after all he´d told him that he held no grudge against him just yesterday. He probably hadn't realized how apprehensive he still was around Hogan till he touched him. Hogan realized it was to be expected what with their _close encounter_ lying back just a couple of days.

Still, it reminded him all too clearly of the state of things. Gosh, he had so hoped it would be easier.

"Colonel Hogan, out!", Schultz called for him and he hurried to take his place in the formation. Newkirk was standing next to him as usual, his eyes straight forward. Great, it seemed they were back to not looking at each other again…

While Hogan was still contemplating how to deal best with his problem, Klink approached them from the Kommandantur, a tall stranger dressed in a German uniform next to him.

"Who´s that next to Klink?", he heard Carter murmur behind him.

"No, idea.", Kinch responded.

The two men stopped in the usual spot and Klink let his eyes wander over the prisoners, with the exception of Hogan whose gaze he avoided. Hogan barely suppressed an annoyed sigh. Great, now Klink, too. And this was the reaction he got without confirming his orientation. Well, hallelujah…

He mentally shook his head and made himself focus on the other man next to the commandant. He was an unusually tall man in his thirties, broad framed without looking sturdy, with clear-cut features and short, blonde hair. The image of an ideal soldier of the Reich, he inspected the group of prisoners with sharp blue eyes.

"Schultz, report!", Klink demanded and the heavyset sergeant started rambling as usual.

"Herr Kommandant, I beg to report, all present and accounted for."

"Sehr gut, sehr gut.", Klink dismissed him with a wave of his hand: "Good morning, men. I will take this opportunity to introduce to you my new staff member, Captain Richter. He will be my adjutant from now on and his orders are to be followed."

He paused when the prisoners started talking among themselves. Hogan felt his men´s questioning eyes on him but he didn't dare look at them because now, Richter´s eyes were directed directly at him. The man scrutinized him for a long moment with an eerie expression, then for just the fraction of a second gave him a smile that was even scarier.

Then, it was gone and Richter was looking at Klink once more.

"That will be all!", Klink shouted over the noise, frowning as he realized no one was listening to him. He turned on his heels and stalked back to his office, followed by Captain Richter. As soon as they were gone, the men crowded around Hogan in a circle.

"What was that all about?", LeBeau muttered, one eye on Schultz who was watching them from his post.

"Yeah, Colonel.", Kinch looked at him: "Where did that guy come from all out of a sudden? The last adjutant Klink had was a spy…"

"I don't know.", Hogan answered: "But I´m about to find out. Kinch, go see if London has any information on this Richter guy."

And with that, he hurried over to Klink´s office. Like his men, he had a bad feeling about this. The last guy with that position had been sent by Major Hochstetter and he couldn't shake the feeling that it was something similar this time.

As he entered the building, he briefly winked at Hilda out of habit, and then entered the office without knocking. Klink turned at him, more annoyed than actually surprised at Hogan´s behavior.

"What is it, Hogan?", he asked crossly. Contrary to before, he was looking straight at him now, even if Hogan thought he saw a flicker of discomfort in his expression before it turned to anger. He decided to ignore it for now and went straight for the kill.

"Colonel, I´m here to protest. Our Red Cross packages have still not arrived and the men are getting impatient."

"Have you asked Sergeant Schultz if he´s seen them?", Klink asked, half smirking, but Hogan was too busy glancing around the office to notice. Richter was nowhere to be seen.

"So why did you get a new adjutant?", Hogan asked casually, careful to keep his voice neutral.

"I was told I needed one.", Klink grumbled moodily: "And I´m not one to ask questions if I can help it."

"I know, sir, and I appreciate that.", Hogan answered half smiling and walked towards the door. Checking out Richter would have to wait until later.

He was already halfway in the corridor when he caught Klink´s suddenly very grave expression.

"Do you, Hogan?", the Kommandant asked.

Hogan gulped and his hand clenched around the doorknob more tightly. It didn't sound like Klink was talking about Richter anymore. It would match his odd behavior.

Did he suspect that Hogan had been lying? It was unlikely for Klink to be so perceptive, but he couldn´t rule it out.

But then again, Hogan knew just by looking at him that even if Klink saw a hole in his story that Burkhalter hadn't, he wouldn't act upon it. From all the people whose judgment he feared, Klink was the least of his worries.

"Immsensely so, Kommandant.", he saluted sloppily and shut the door behind him.

Back in the barracks, he headed for his office immediately. Carter and Newkirk were seated on his bunk as usually while LeBeau and Kinch stood next to his desk.

"Bad news, colonel.", Kinch said sternly: "I just talked to London. Richter is Gestapo. He works with Hochstetter."

"I was afraid so.", Hogan sighed.

"What could he want, sir?", Carter asked worriedly.

"I don't know.", Hogan said gravely as he remembered the look Richter had given him on the compound: "But I have a feeling he´s not here to spy on Klink."

* * *

nope, he´s not. :-)

it might take me a little longer to update from now on, just thought i´d inform you guys. ...a gal´s gotta work from time to time :-)


	6. Chapter 6

Colonel Klink sat at his desk, chewing on a pencil while he stared at his untouched paperwork. Behind his furrowed brows his mind was reeling. He couldn't help it, even after Hogan had discredited Hochstetter´s accusations, he couldn't take his mind of what the Gestapo man had told him.

In his mind, Hogan had always been the typical Casanova, flirting with every skirt that came within five feet of him. Trying to picture him kiss a man was almost out of his grasp.

But, as he reminded himself, the sudden wariness towards Hogan wasn´t what he should be concerned about. He looked to the left where Captain Richter was standing by the window. His hands were crossed behind his back and he looked out on the compound in silence.

Klink frowned thinking of what the man could be up to. It wasn't his place to question the Gestapo´s actions, but maybe he should consult with General Burkhalter on this matter. After all, Hochstetter had practically been banned from the Stalag and he couldn't help suspect that this Richter was somehow connected to him.

He got up and tried to peek around the captain´s back. What was so interesting out there anyway?

All he saw were some prisoners hanging around the compound, enjoying their recreation period. He thought he recognized some of Hogan´s gang members, as he liked to call them; the little Frenchman was chatting with Feldwebel Schultz, and Sergeant Carter and that Englander, Newkirk were sitting by the barracks, sharing a cigarette.

Just now, Carter said something and Newkirk smacked the back of his head in response. Then he swiftly got up and walked towards the door of Barracks 2. Just before he vanished inside, he looked straight over to the Kommandantur, his eyes lingering on Richter´s silhouette for a moment.

When he was gone, Richter turned his back to the window, a slight smile on his face.

"Something funny, captain?", Klink asked against better judgment.

Richter barely rewarded him with a look before he headed for the door. "I shall see.", he answered vaguely: "I´ll make my rounds now, Kommandant. I assume you will inform the prisoners about the project tonight at roll call?"

"That is the plan.", Klink agreed sourly. He didn't like the way that man acted as though he was in charge here. Although -he probably was.

Colonel Hogan was down in the tunnels with Kinch who monitored the radio. They were just discussing the munitions factory when Newkirk appeared from upstairs.

Hogan couldn't help but look at him a little too long; too late he realized he had stopped speaking in mid-sentence once again. When he recollected himself he thought he saw Kinch looking at him funny for just a short moment and quickly tried to pull himself together.

"Anything new?", he asked casually, trying to keep his expression neutral. If he didn't succeed, Newkirk made no sign of noticing it.

"That ruddy Kraut ´as been staring at our barracks all morning, gov´nor. I don't know about you chaps, but he freaks me out. ´Ave you seen that look he gave us at roll call? Ice cold."

"I´ll say.", Kinch nodded: "Maybe we should try to find out what he´s up to."

Hogan nodded thoughtfully. "Alright, we´ll keep an eye on him, but right now we have to worry about getting into that munitions factory.", he stated, crossing his arms as he looked at their plans on the table: "Somehow we´ve got to get in there and steal those plans."

"Any ideas yet, colonel?", Kinch asked hopefully but the other man shook his head.

"Let´s talk about it after roll call tonight. I don't want to stay down here for too long. Who knows if that new captain believes in surprise inspections."

He started walking towards the main tunnel: "You guys coming?"

"I´ll be up in a minute, colonel. Just waiting for response from our contacts in Hammelburg.", Kinch called after him. Hogan nodded and headed towards the ladder.

Halfway there he felt eyes burning in the back of his neck and turned around. Newkirk looked a bit startled upon being caught staring at the colonel, but he caught himself quickly. With two large steps he caught up to Hogan and they walked to the exit shoulder to shoulder.

The British corporal had been unusually quiet all morning, around him at least. It was as Hogan suspected; no matter how hard Newkirk tried to make believe that the whole matter didn't affect him, it was still visibly gnawing at him.

Again, Hogan felt a sharp pang of regret which he couldn´t quite put his finger on.

Maybe he just felt bad for putting the man in that position.

Maybe, and that was more likely, he felt bad because his confession seemed so dreadful to Newkirk. He didn't expect him to return his feelings, never had, yet he couldn't seem to stop thinking of what it would be like… It was even harder now that he had come to his senses and the memories of kissing him were blazing on his mind.

Still, he had to make it clear that he wouldn't act upon his feelings if he wanted to restore their work relationship.

"You alright, Newkirk?", he asked hesitantly.

The corporal´s head snapped around like Hogan had just ripped him out of deep thoughts. It took him a moment to process the question, then he answered it just like he did everything else, pretending he didn't see the glimmer in Hogan´s eyes whenever the man looked at him. Pretending he didn't know what the question was about.

"Just marvelous.", he huffed, unable to keep a hint of sarcasm out of his voice: "I just wish the bleedin´ Gestapo would give us a rest for now. At least till the wounds from last time are somewhat healed."

Despite changing the subject on him again, his remark reminded Hogan of a question he had wanted to ask for a while.

"How are those wounds healing?"

Newkirk shrugged carelessly: "We ´ad to stay in bed for a couple of days, but Wilson patched us up alright. LeBeau won´t be able to do any heavy lifting for a while and I need to keep from making any harsh movements, something like that."; he quoted the medic: "Only good that came out of it is that Carter had to shut up for quite a while. Almost worth the trouble if you ask me."

He chuckled lightly, but Hogan could see that the thought didn't really amuse him. Despite their constant bickering, he knew that Carter was almost like a little brother to Newkirk. Seeing him hurt like that must have been especially tough.

"I´m sorry I put you guys through that.", he apologized deeply, his self-hate returning full force for a moment.

"´S not your fault, gov´nor, I already told you that.", Newkirk interjected forcibly: "There´s no need for you to shoulder Hochstetter´s blame. You saved us, is what you did and none of us will ever forget that."

It was amazing how Newkirk justified everything he said. He knew he did it to ease the blame and also to take Hogan´s mind of the events of that night, but all it did was to remind Hogan that he wasn't in love with him just for his looks.

No, he was a good soldier and an even better man who would always put loyalty and honor before everything else.

A thought struck Hogan right then, looking into Newkirk´s honest eyes.

Could it be that he was so willing to look past Hogan´s tendencies because he felt he had a debt to make up for? Did he feel obligated to give Hogan a free pass because he owed him his life? Was he forcing himself to act normally, or to be in his presence even?

The horror of that idea must have shown on his face because Newkirk shot him a worried look.

"What is it, sir?"

Hogan stopped in mid-step, thoughtlessly grabbing Newkirk´s wrist to get him to stand still. Newkirk looked back at him with a mixture of alarm and confusion, whether it was because of his expression or because Hogan was restraining him. He didn't try to yank himself free but he sure looked like he put a lot of effort into remaining still.

Hogan did his best to ignore it as he stared at him intently.

"Do you despise me for it?", he asked quietly, his voice in stark contrast to the intense fire burning in his dark eyes.

It wasn't necessary to define _it_. He didn't think he could take it if the answer was yes, still he had to know. At least with Newkirk he wanted to be honest.

Newkirk looked at him for a long moment, and it was obvious that he was fighting himself inwardly.

"No.", he finally shook his head: "No, I don't. It´s just…difficult to come to terms with. I´m trying; it´s just… sometimes when I see you looking at me I can´t help but…", he interrupted himself rather harshly, looking at the floor.

After a moment or so he recomposed himself and straightened up, obviously determined to wipe any amount of uncertainty off his face for good.

"But I meant it when I said that I don't think any less of you.", he insisted once more. Hogan nodded slowly, unsure whether that made him feel better or not.

At least he had his answer.

"Thank you.", he made himself smile at the corporal: "For trying to understand. It´s not a given, I know that…"

Newkirk shrugged, quite obviously trying to make it seem like it didn't bother him at all. "Don't mention it. I´m sure the others would cope with it, too, if you told them. They are good men, gov´nor."

"I´m not so sure about that.", Hogan smiled wryly, bitterness shining through.

"Well, you won´t know until you tell them.", Newkirk pondered, obviously trying to help Hogan with an idea: "If I were you I´d start out with explaining that you´re not going to make a pass at them…"

He faltered when he saw Hogan´s expression and blushed furiously. "Well, you know…", he stammered, trying to save himself: "…cause you´re, err, otherwise…uhm… engaged…"

Despite the dim lighting in the tunnels, Hogan had no trouble seeing Newkirk´s face taking on the coloring of a ripe tomato. "Oh, bloody…you know what I ruddy mean…"

At that, all Hogan could do was fight down the urge to bring his hand up to the corporal´s face and feel its heat beneath his skin; what he couldn't choke down was the chuckle that escaped him at the priceless view.

"Yeah, I do.", he smiled, much more sincerely now: "I´ll think about it."

Newkirk returned his smile tentatively, before saying:

"Er, sir, would you mind lettin´ go of me arm now?"

Now it was Hogan´s turn to be embarrassed: "Oh, right. Sorry ´bout that."

After that, he put on a straight face as quickly as possible. It was time to worry about business; after all there was a war on.

"Let´s go.", he said as he started climbing the ladder: "I still have to figure out how to get into that munitions factory."

He didn't have to strain his brain cells for very long. At roll call that evening, Klink made a surprising announcement.

"Gentlemen, I have a proposition to make.", he said cheerfully, clasping his riding crop tightly: "There is a factory near this camp which needs some extra hands for the next week. All of you will be given the opportunity to support the German war effort by working there. Now, volunteers, take a step forward."

No one moved. Instead a wave of snorts and shouts erupted. "Quiet! Ruhe!", Schultz shouted over their heads, but no one acknowledged him. Only Colonel Hogan managed to get them to quiet down after a moment.

"Alright, fellas, pipe down!", he shouted: "The Kommandant knows we wouldn't collaborate with the enemy like that."

He stepped toward Klink, the picture of innocence: "Unless the price is right, that means."

"Hogan!", Klink waved his fist angrily but the American colonel was unimpressed.

"Two additional slices of bread for a week and more recreation time."

"Denied!"

"Fine.", Hogan shrugged as he turned back to his men: "Have your own men do it then."

He hadn't made two steps when Klink gave in.

"Hogan.", he called him back with a face that reminded of a grumpy child: "Five days. No more. And you will start tomorrow morning."

"Wouldn't dream of asking for more.", Hogan grinned as he mock saluted him and walked back to his men. They regarded him curiously, rubbing their gloved hands together against the cold.

"So we´re going to steal the plans tomorrow then?", LeBeau asked without even doubting that that was Hogan´s plan.

"I dunno. We have to find them first and then figure out a way to cover for ourselves…"

Hogan stopped speaking when Kinch suddenly made a rash gesture with his hand, and everyone´s eyes widened.

Slowly, Hogan glanced behind him only to see Captain Richter walking towards them.

"Alright.", Hogan said loudly to the assembled men: "I need at least eight of you to go to the factory with me. Who wants to…?"

"Don't bother, colonel.", he was interrupted.

Richter came to a halt next to him, giving him a mild smile that didn't reach his eyes. Newkirk was right. They were like rocks of ice.

"What´s that, Captain?", he asked neutrally.

Richter´s smile widened: "I will be picking the men to go to the factory, if you don't mind, colonel."

"Not at all.", Hogan answered politely even though he was pretty sure that that hadn't been a question.

The Captain nodded and began walking down the line of men, apparently inspecting them. Hogan watched nervously as Richter picked out man after man who had nothing to do with the operation, in the process walking past Kinch, then LeBeau and Carter.

Damnit, if the guy kept this up, none of the important men would be going to the factory!

Just as Hogan was about to say something, Richter came to a halt in front of Newkirk. He looked him up and down for a moment, stepping so close that Newkirk actually had to tilt his head to maintain eye contact.

"You.", Richter smiled: "I´m sure you will be quite useful to me, corporal."

Newkirk just looked back at him, carefully keeping quiet until the man finally broke eye contact and moved on.

After picking out two more random men, Richter tipped his temple at Hogan and was off to the staff´s quarters.

"What was that all about?", LeBeau stepped up to Hogan while the rest of the prisoners went back about their business.

"Yeah, it almost looked like he was avoiding those close to Colonel Hogan on purpose.", Carter mused.

"Whatever the reason, he missed one.", Kinch grinned, patting Newkirk on the back: "Looks like you´re our man, buddy."

Newkirk nodded absentmindedly; his eyes still glued to the point where Richter had vanished. Hogan didn't like the look on his face any more than he cared for Richter´s. Irrational worry claimed him almost immediately and all he could do was tell himself that he would feel that way about any of the men under his command. He wasn't very successful at it.

He stepped up to Newkirk, looking in the same direction as he.

"I don't like it, gov´nor.", Newkirk muttered quietly, without looking at him: "There´s just something about that man…gives me the chills."

He lit a cigarette and blew the smoke into the frosty air. His dark hair whirled slightly in the breeze and he pulled his overcoat more tightly around him.

"Just stay clear of him until you spot the plans.", Hogan advised.

He tried not to show it, but his own intuition was warning him as well. Everything inside him rebelled against the idea that Richter would know who was in his inner circle but then forget about Newkirk. Still, there was no other way and he had no proof that would justify making the corporal stay behind.

"Come on. Let´s get inside.", he murmured, lightly putting one hand on the small of the corporal´s back.

This time, Newkirk didn't flinch and Hogan was incredibly thankful for it.

* * *

alright, that´s it for now.

**One question**: Does anyone actually care if there is a real mission apart from getting Hogan and Newkirk together?

I wasnt sure, because most people either care to read romance stories or action stories, not both. Let me know if you find the time so i can adjust my writing. thanks.


	7. Chapter 7

Hey guys:-)

this chapter is more about Newkirk (from his POV) than the prior ones, so we get get some insight into him. Hope you enjoy it!

Übrigens hab ich gerade erst rausgekriegt wie man bei Traffic seine Besucher sehen kann und mir ist aufgefallen dass auch viele Leute aus Deutschland die Story lesen. das freut mich natürlich sehr und noch mehr würde es mich freuen auch von euch zu hören was ihr an der Story mögt/nicht mögt. Wenn ihr diese Story lest gehe ich davon aus dass ihr Fans des Pairings seid und ich würde es toll finden andere Fans kennenzulernen:-)

soviel dazu, nun weg von der Gehiemsprache und zurück zu Englisch:

* * *

Corporal Peter Newkirk felt like he hadn´t slept all night.

He had felt exhausted alright, but once he had been in his bunk with the lights out and Carter´s soft snoring coming from beneath him, he couldn't seem to fall asleep. So he had spent most of the night staring at Colonel Hogan´s office door.

From time to time he thought he heard suppressed whimpers and wondered if the colonel might be having nightmares. After all, Hochstetter had visited _his_ dreams more than once since their last encounter and he always woke up bathed in cold sweat.

Sometime later his thoughts had involuntarily shifted to their conversation earlier that day and the day before. He had meant what he said; he wouldn't hold Hogan´s feelings against him.

Still, and he knew he was doing a really poor job at hiding it, he couldn't ever seem to put it out of his mind. Things that he wouldn't have noticed before now had his hair stand on edge. He still couldn't believe he had reacted like he did just because the governor had put a hand on his back. It was ridiculous of him, after all he´d done that hundreds of times before, and to all of them. Instead of reassuring him though, that thought only brought back his earlier stream of memories.

Before his inner eye he tried to remember every interaction they had had over the past months.

Could he have known something was out of the ordinary? Should he have noticed?

No, he told himself in the end, how could he?

He´d never met a bigger skirt chaser than Hogan. More than once had he found himself jealous of all the girls Hogan got while the rest of them could barely snatch some crumbs now and then. It had been natural, though, Hogan was an officer and no one could deny his good looks.

Over the years here in camp, Newkirk, and he knew that that was the case with many of the other prisoners too, had sometimes imagined being in Hogan´s place when he charmed a pretty underground agent or flirted with Klink´s secretary.

Yet, he had never imagined being Hilda in that scenario.

Even though he usually tried to push it as far away as possible, his sleepy brain made him think of Hogan´s kiss then. When he´d kissed him in the Gestapo´s basement, he had been beyond shocked. There had been no room for any sensations other than pain, fear and desperation.

Now though that he was safely in his bed, Newkirk couldn't help but think of the other aspect he had neglected until now. The way Hogan had held him upright, his arms shielding him from the cold of the cellar and the enemy, the way his brown eyes had almost melted when he gingerly touched this cheek.

Newkirk shook his head vigorously. He didn't know how he could ever had any doubt Hogan´s feelings were real.

The fact that the colonel asnt interested in women was enough to digest already. But what Newkirk really couldn't get over was something different.

´_I love you.´_

Those words, so sincere and heartfelt, were what really kept him from getting any sleep.

It had completely pulled the rug out from under him. Even now, he had a hard time believing it. Physical attraction was one thing, but love? How was he supposed to deal with that?

And while the realization had scared him, what scared him even more that he couldn't seem to stop thinking about it.

Newkirk´s eyes snapped open when someone shook him by the shoulder and he looked up into Carter´s face.

"Gee, Newkirk, didn't you hear the whistle? Roll call in five."

Newkirk made himself get up quickly, wondering when he had fallen asleep after all. One cursory glance towards the office showed him that Hogan was already dressed and ready for the day. He was standing amongst the chaos of prisoners chatting and hurrying to get ready; he himself was not moving or talking. Instead he was staring straight at him.

Newkirk felt his heart leap involuntarily.

There it was again. That look.

As soon as Hogan realized he had been caught in the act, he made it seem like it was nothing, briefly smiling before he turned to look somewhere else, but Newkirk wasn't fooled.

He got dressed quickly, listening with one ear to Carter´s cackling, while his mind was reeling.

Was this how it would be for the rest of this war? Why couldn't they go back to normal, Hogan being his superior and him being just another member of his team? It would be so much easier.

And that wasn't his only problem.

At morning roll call he had to face that creepy captain again. Newkirk made a point of staring past him as he walked along the row of men, inspecting them.

Rationally there wasn't much to support his worry. Well, not more than usually, that was. So far, Richter had not given them any reason to suspect he meant them ill, or mentioned Hochstetter. Maybe he was wrong, maybe it was just another transfer and they wouldn't have any trouble. Still, he hadn't been lying when he said that he had a bad feeling about that man.

He tried to shake it as he left the camp with seven other workers, Richter, Schultz and two more guards. What was important now was to focus on the mission. The guys were counting on him.

The munitions factory looked pretty ordinary, just what they usually dealt with: some barbed wire, some posts and guard dogs, but nothing they couldn't get around.

He glanced at Richter who was giving instructions to the guards at the fence.

Hopefully he would have the opportunity to wander around unguarded. One look at Schultz who was practically dozing a few feet from him while leaning on his rifle made him optimistic. He walked over, grinning at the heavy German.

"Eh, Schultzie, shouldn´t you be assigning us to our workplaces? Wouldn't wanna miss a minute, would we now?"

Schultz´s head snapped up and he glared at the Englishman for interrupting…well, nothing.

"Right."; he bellowed and started shooing the men in different direction. "O´Brain and Smith, over to the assembly line, Peters…"

Newkirk let himself be ushered to an assembly line that looked like it transported little metal pieces of different shapes. Everyone was busy working, but he just couldn't shake the feeling of eyes on his skin. Yet, whenever he looked up, there was nothing out of the ordinary.

After working for a while he glanced around carefully once more, and then he quickly slid one of the pieces into his pants pocket. Maybe Carter would know what it was or they could send it back to London for examining; it was small enough.

Then he let his gaze wander to try and find any doors or hallways that might lead to a secluded area. Surely the blueprints would be in an office of some kind.

He quickly found the possible target. A door that appeared to be locked. The foreman walked in and out of it sometimes and one time Richter disappeared in there, too. That must be it then. Question was how was he going to get in there unnoticed?

As the day went on, it became more and more obvious that Newkirk would not accomplish his mission that day. There was no way he could just slip into that room without anyone covering for him. He needed a plan. So he decided to go back to camp and confer with the others first; for now he had some of the material at least.

At the end of the work day, he followed the other prisoners to the gates, exhausted and a little frustrated by his non-results.

Schultz was just ushering them onto the truck when Richter suddenly seemed to appear out of nowhere.

"Halt!", he said loudly.

Schultz looked at him in confusion and held his arm out in front of Newkirk who had just been about to get in.

Richter strode closer, his eyes directed at him. The bad feeling returned immediately but he tried to remain calm.

"Feldwebel.", Richter spoke up: "Have these men been searched properly?"

"Uhm…" While Schultz started mumbling some nonsense in his defense, Richter briefly looked over the gathered men until his eyes locked with Newkirk´s.

"Hand it over, corporal."

"Whatever do you mean, sir?", Newkirk tried to look as innocent as possible while ignoring the two guards that automatically cocked their rifles and aimed them at him. He put his arms next to his head, his hat dangling from his left thumb.

"You fellas are making a mistake.", he said much more calmly than he actually felt.

"Oh, is that so?"

Richter just smiled confidently and came uncomfortably close. Before anyone could move he reached out and thrust his hand into the pocket of Newkirk´s pants. Newkirk gasped in surprise and was about to jump back when he felt the business end of a rifle pressing into his back. He had no choice but to grit his teeth and tolerate the man´s hand on him.

Richter took his sweet time rummaging through his pockets, then he straightened up and held the stolen piece of metal up for everyone to see. His smile grew victorious and he shook his head in a chiding way as though he was facing a naughty child.

"Now, that isn't very nice, corporal, stealing from the enemy.", his eyes narrowed for a split second, only for Newkirk to see: "What´s next? Sabotage?"

What sounded like a purely rhetorical question got a whole new meaning combined with that insufferable smirk. Newkirk´s eyes widened ever so slightly as he realized that they´d been right after all.

The man knew about them. Or at least what Hochstetter believed he knew about them. That made it pretty clear as to why he was here. Well…hell!

His lapse had been brief but Richter noticed anyway.

His smile widened ever so slightly and Newkirk felt rage slam into him full force when he remembered Hochstetter.

Before he could stop himself he shot back: "Don´t blame me, it´s you who started the war."

Immediately he was shoved in the back by one of the guards, but Richter dismissed him with one flick of his fingers. Newkirk would have almost preferred to see him lash out in anger; this eerie amount of composure couldn't be normal…

But Richter didn't seem bothered in the least. He moved his head so their faces were almost touching, visibly pleased when Newkirk leaned back as far as he could without risking a hole in his own back.

"And trust me, corporal, I will be the one to finish it."

When he backed off at last, even Schultz could see that the English POW was unnaturally pale. He grabbed his elbow to help him onto the truck and avoid another confrontation at the same time, but Newkirk just shook him off gently.

"I´m fine.", he murmured and climbed up himself.

Truth was, he was everything but.

Richter´s words didn't leave much room for imagination as to what he planned to finish.

Or who, for that matter.

He had to get back and warn the guys.

* * *

Colonel Hogan couldn't keep from sighing in relief when the truck with the workers returned and he saw the blue RAF uniform disengaging itself from the group of men.

Newkirk hurried back to the barracks without turning around once. He didn't stop where Hogan and LeBeau were standing but went straight inside without a word.

Alarmed, Hogan glanced over to where Richter just got out of the passenger´s side of the vehicle. The blond man met his gaze and smiled at him before heading for Klink´s office.

"Come on.", Hogan grabbed LeBeau´s arm and led him towards the barrack´s door. Once inside they joined Newkirk, Carter and Kinch in the office.

He didn't have to ask any questions because Carter immediately blurted out: "He knows! He´s Hochstetter´s man alright, that Richter!"

* * *

finito.

sorry i didnt describe the factory in more detail, i´m not really interested or informed about stuff like that.

Hope it made sense anyway:-)


	8. Chapter 8

Ready for chapter 8?

for all those who might be bothered by it, i know my writing is kinda lenghty and stuff; now, i try to be more precise, it just doesnt always work out.

Hope you enjoy it anyway, this one is mostly fighting and threats.

* * *

"I´m telling you, he knew.", Newkirk said for the third time in as many minutes. He blew the smoke of his cigarette towards the ceiling of Hogan's office. The other men frowned at his words.

"Gee, you really can´t trust anyone anymore, can you?", Carter ranted upset and everyone rolled their eyes.

"Well, there is a war on, you know?", Newkirk asked mockingly, but his smile didn't reach his eyes.

"What are we going to do?", Kinch asked Hogan, completely ignoring the others´ bickering: "Whatever he has planned isn´t going to be pleasant for us. Do we take him out right away?"

Hogan shook his head while staring out the window: "No, we can't. If he disappeared right now it would raise suspicion. They would have patrols searching for him and we would never get to the plans. We have to finish the mission first, then we can worry about Richter."

He turned to face Newkirk: "Now, it might be dangerous for you to go back there. If Richter really suspects us to be saboteurs he might try to catch you in the act or even pin something on you just so Hochstetter can get his revenge. So, this is voluntary from now on. You have to decide whether you want to go back there."

They looked at each other for a moment, then Newkirk nodded, smiling grimly: "I´ll do it, sir. Richter will ´ave to do more than stare me down to scare me."

They were interrupted by Carter who looked at the colonel in confusion: "Wait, that doesn't make sense, colonel. I though Hochstetter wanted to revenge himself on you, so why would Newkirk be at risk? Wouldn't he have wanted to get _you_ to the factory in the first place?"

He blinked, totally clueless as the room suddenly fell quiet. One could have heard a pin drop as Hogan stood frozen and unblinking by the window, acutely aware of everybody´s eyes on him once more.

It lasted for only a couple of seconds, then LeBeau rolled his eyes at Carter: "Were you in the Gestapo cell with us, imbécile? Hochstetter said to the colonel that he would punish him by hurting us…"

"And since the colonel made it pretty clear…", Kinch added, clearing his throat: "… just where his…priorities lie, Richter´s bound to go for Newkirk."

"Oh… Oh!", Carter´s eyes grew wide while Hogan grew paler by the second.

And there it was again. The tension. The stares. The silence.

Hogan finally pulled himself together and made sure he had his poker face on before turning towards the men.

"Yeah, well, since he thinks that he can get to me that way, we´ll have to find a way to put Newkirk out of danger.", he decided: "I´ll tell Klink I want to go to the factory, too. Two of us are better than one."

And with that he all but rushed outside.

The men stayed behind, an awkward silence lingering between them as they stared at the door. It was only broken when Carter continued his blabbering, apparently still piecing the facts together.

"So…", he murmured slowly, a frown on his young face: "Hochstetter still thinks the colonel is…oh! But we can´t endanger Newkirk because of that! We´ll have to let him know he´s wrong, that Colonel Hogan isn't like that!"

He looked around in confusion when no one answered him. "What´s with you guys all out of a sudden? Hochstetter´s crazy! We have to tell someone…"

"Tell them what?", LeBeau asked exasperatedly: "We all saw the colonel…doing what he did. We all heard him say the words. We´re lucky as it is that no one else believed Hochstetter."

"Lucky?", Carter asked incredulously: "Who _would_ believe that? The colonel is real man, he´s strong and brave, and not like…like a girl…"

"Shut up, Carter!"; Newkirk suddenly snapped at him and the young sergeant fell silent, looking startled: "Where do you get off talking like that?"

Carter, who now looked hurt next to confused, stammered something but he didn't get to finish. Newkirk cursed loudly and glared at all of them angrily. Kinch just stood there staring intently at Newkirk, his lips one bloodless line, but he didn't say anything.

After a moment LeBeau chipped in, his brows furrowed: "What is your problem, Pierre? Carter asked a logical question. We all know…"

"You know nothing.", Newkirk hissed furiously.

"Well, _what_ don't we know?"; Kinch finally asked challengingly: "Unless you know any more than the rest of us, it´s legitimate that we discuss this problem…"

"What problem?", Newkirk shot back without hesitance: "All we need to know is that the gov´nor is a good and brave man who would do anything to protect us. What else do you need?"

That shut Kinch up effectively. In his anger, Newkirk sincerely hoped that part of the shadow in his eyes was caused by guilt. It was hard to tell though what with Kinch being rather secluded and Newkirk not even being able to locate the exact source of his own sudden anger.

The four men just stared at each other, LeBeau and Kinch clearly bewildered and slightly hostile while Carter seemed almost desperate in his uncertainty. When no one spoke to close the gap between them that was rapidly filling with tension, Carter eventually spoke up just to be snapped at again.

"Sure, that´s true…but still, Newkirk, I´d like to know about it if he was…"

"So what if he was…? Would that make him less of a hero? He wasn't too girlish too save all of our ruddy lives, was he now?"

"No,…but I always thought of him more like a…a friend than an officer…and I don't want to see that destroyed…"

Carter looked so deeply distressed saying this that Newkirk immediately felt bad for cutting into him like that.

Fighting for self control, he said a little calmer: "Then let me ask you something, Andrew. Am I your friend?"

"Of course, you're my best friend."

"So what if I was that?", he noticed the crease on Carter´s forehead deepen and sighed in exasperation: "Just pretend…_If_ I was, would you just throw away all the years of comradeship?"

He stared at him intently, waiting for an answer that didn't come. Carter just stared up at him with huge eyes, seemingly torn between guilt and doubt. Newkirk waited another moment, then he looked at the other two men who just stood there silently as well.

"Fine.", he finally hissed: "Blimey, I thought you were deeper than that."

Again the look of hurt on Carter´s face felt like a stab to his heart but he forced himself to ignore it, knowing he was right in what he was saying. The silence now weighed on him like a blanket made of lead, pulling him down.

Eventually Carter tried to resolve the situation, but his answer couldn't really be called one. "Well…", he muttered, helplessly: "…but you're not…you know…. And the colonel isn't either so…"

But Newkirk knew it wouldn't be that easy. No, they would not bury the issue again and treat it like it was impossible anyway. It hurt to know that these men that he would trust with his own life seemed willing to abandon a man over a trivial issue like that.

"Just forget about it, Carter.", he shook his head disappointedly: "Fact is Hochstetter and Richter believe it. That´s all that matters."

And with that, he left the office, grabbed his coat and left the barracks.

Even now, he still wasn´t sure why he had gotten that angry. It wasn't his fight after all. Sure, some of it he could blame on feeling protective over someone he cared about but…

He hadn't expected to get so mad at Carter and the others, but in there he´d just lost it.

_`You´re not like that´,_ Carter´s words echoed in his mind. No. No, he wasn't.

Pondering, he followed Colonel Hogan out into the night.

Hogan couldn't get out of the barracks fast enough. He felt like hitting something as hard as he could and curl up in some dark hole at the same time.

What had he done to deserve all this grief? Hochstetter trying to kill him, Richter possibly out to hurt the man he loved, his own men wary of him, and a tricky mission on top of that…

God, he needed some sleep. He snorted bitterly. Well, maybe he could squeeze in some hours of shut eye once he was dead. For now, he had things to do, people to fool.

Hogan practically stormed into the Kommandantur, completely ignoring Schultz's protests in the process. The rotund guard stumbled after him, almost forgetting his rifle at his post.

"Colonel Hogan. Colonel Hogan! You can't go in there. The commandant and Captain Richter are in a conference."

Hogan lifted an eyebrow tiredly: "There´s only the two of them in there."

As usually Schultz didn't let logic get in the way of his world view: "Well, ja, but as your countrymen say…three´s a crowd."

"Don't worry, Schultz.", Hogan cut him off and let himself into the building quickly: "I won´t stay for dinner."

He didn't have to look around to know that he had won; Schultz was slouching back to his post by now, preferring it to the Russian Front.

He entered the office just in time to hear the end of what was undoubtedly one of Klink's wordy attempts at self-praise:

"…why it's the toughest POW camp in all of Germany. You can ask everyone around here…"

"Oh, yes, we all tremble before the iron eagle.", Hogan said instead of asking permission to enter.

He stepped into the room casually. Klink was seated behind his desk, waving some fake escape record in front of Richter who was standing in front of it.

Now they both turned around, Richter looking mildly bemused while Klink frowned immediately.

"Hogan, what are you doing here?", he barked: "Whatever you want, it will have to wait until evening roll call."

"Colonel, I request permission to accompany my men to the factory from now on.", Hogan cut to the chase, not really in the mood for games either.

"You do?", Richter replied before Klink even got the chance: "Well, colonel, I am the one in charge of that project, so you might as well ask me directly."

"Fine.", Hogan could barely keep from shooting a dirty look at the man: "May I- ?"

"No.", Richter said immediately, smiling again: "I don't need another man and I assure you there are more than enough supervisors around at the factory. So I have no need of aid from you."

"Still, I would…", Hogan pressed the issue but was immediately interrupted once more when Richter suddenly stepped up to him. With some annoyance, Hogan noticed that the man was even noticeably taller than him.

Richter inclined his head and lowered his voice so Klink would not be able to hear, before he asked: "Or is that not why you want to go in the first place, colonel? You already miss your corporal, ja? But, my, it's only been a day. How are you going to feel if he stays away for longer than that...?"

He smiled knowingly when Hogan's eyes widened. Then he stepped back and raised his voice back to that used in normal conversation.

"No, I think it's wise for you to stay here so you can get used to that idea, colonel."

Hogan's mind was reeling while his insides seemed frozen all out of a sudden. There was no mistaking that man´s words for anything but threats. Fear and fury fought in his chest as he struggled to keep his hand from wrapping around the man's throat.

´If you touch one hair on his head you're a dead man.´, was what he wanted to say, to scream out. But he knew it would be a confession; and it would show Richter he had hit a sore spot.

So instead he said: "I don't know what it is you're talking about, but I suggest that if you have some sort of problem, you take it up with me. Or are you too scared for that?"

Now Richter looked as though he was about to pounce, too.

Just in time it seemed, Klink was suddenly standing in-between them, pulling Hogan's arm as if he didn't dare touch Richter.

"Now, gentlemen, whatever is this about?"; he inquired: "Colonel Hogan, your rudeness surprises me! The captain hasn't done anything to you."

He seemed to waver a bit at the last part.

"Did he…", he mumbled quietly, not really managing to make it sound like a question. It didn't matter much anyway because none of the other two were paying attention to him. Still, they both backed up a bit, reigning in their temper while their eyes were still locked and sending an obvious message.

Richter was the first to regain his usual smugness: "Don't worry, colonel, I wouldn't forget about you. Why don't you join us for dinner tomorrow night so we can…discuss this further? That would give me something to look forward to so I don't grow bored during my long, long day in the factory."

"It would be my pleasure.", Hogan all but hissed.

Next to them, Klink was mumbling something into his beard but still no one acknowledged him. Like Schultz he seemed to prefer being a pawn on his own board over being a frostbitten corpse.

"We will expect you around eight, then.", Richter said, holding the door for Hogan.

"Don't start without me.", the colonel said before he left the office.

"I wouldn't dream of it.", Richter grinned and closed the door in his face.

As Hogan left the building he wasn't sure what to do next. Thinking of the problems with his own men helped taking his mind of the dreadful images Richter had planted in it.

So he chose the lesser of two evils and pondered what to do about the men. After what had happened in his office he really didn't want to go back in there. On the other hand, staying away would raise even more suspicion.

He sighed heavily. As if he didn't have enough to deal with already… Maybe he should just tell them and get it over with. But how could he explain when Carter didn't even grasp the concept of a possible relationship between two men, and the others went to even more trouble to push away their suspitions? It sure wasn't encouraging.

A movement to his right had him whirl around, worried for a moment but when he looked closer it was only Newkirk. The corporal seemed to have waited out here for a while, his shoulders were drawn up under his overcoat and the fingers in which he held a cigarette shivered visibly.

Hogan managed to muster a smile as he started slowly walking next to him.

"You alright, gov´nor?", he asked quietly and offered him a cigarette. Hogan took it gratefully and took a few drags to calm his nerves.

"Richter won´t let me go to the factory."; he stated plainly: "I´ll try to convince him tomorrow night, but it doesn't look good."

He didn't mention the other things the German had hinted at; no need to meet trouble half-way. Even Richter wouldn't openly attack a POW in broad daylight surrounded by witnesses. And even if, Newkirk knew how to take care of himself.

But as much as he fought to keep the distress he felt out of his voice, he was pretty sure Newkirk´s ears would be able to pick it up.

"Don't worry.", the corporal grinned at him just a little too optimistic: "Nothing these magic hands can´t get their fingers on."

He curled his fingers the way he often did, as though he was performing a magic trick and Hogan couldn't keep from smiling.

He nodded. "As soon as you find the plans, tell us, and we´ll sneak into the factory, snatch them and blow the whole thing up behind us. Don't try to steal them during the day unless it´s absolutely necessary. That Richter has eyes like a hawk."

Next to him, Newkirk shivered slightly and a frown marred his face for a second. "You can say that again.", he murmured thoughtfully.

"What´s that?", Hogan pressed, but Newkirk just shook his head.

"I´ll try to locate them tomorrow morning.", the corporal said instead, before changing the subject: "What happened earlier…Blimey, colonel, the guys didn't mean to…you know how Carter is…"

There were almost at their barracks now; stopping just before the door. Hogan forced a smile on his face as he patted Newkirk´s shoulder.

"I know. Don´t worry about it."

And with that he let go and continued his walk across the compound while Newkirk stood still for another moment, looking after him.

Neither of them noticed two separate pairs of eyes watching their interaction from close by.

* * *

The end…for now.

Btw, I realize that using the term _that_ instead of gay isn't very eloquent but to be honest I´m not sure what term would have been used in that time period.

So I just imagine the guys trying to avoid the real word because it makes them uncomfortable. I spose none of you have a better suggestion?


	9. Chapter 9

_Robert Hogan was sitting in his office staring out the window in silence. The bright sunlight warmed his arms through the glass and he closed his eyes to relax for a moment. _

_The only sound he could hear were the far off cries of men out in the compound, yelling things he couldn't make out and laughing. He enjoyed this rare peace even as it made him realize all the more that he was alone. That thought oddly reminded him of a line he´d heard somewhere before (1): He walked among his men but he wasn't one of them._

_Hogan got up and walked into the main room of the barracks. It was empty except for one man sitting at the table, playing what looked like solitaire. Newkirk looked up at him and smiled crookedly. The sunlight reflected on his dark hair and danced in his eyes. _

"_Where is everyone?", Hogan asked, his voice sounding a little far off even to him._

"_Outside, it´s recreation period and the weather´s marvelous.", Newkirk stood up and walked towards the bunk next to the door, peeking out briefly. When he turned toward Hogan the light from outside made it seem like he was wearing a halo. Hogan almost chuckled at the notion. _

_Newkirk wasn't one of them either. Or one of his´…_

_The British corporal didn't comment on his expression. Instead he suggested: "You should come out. You've been hiding in here too long already."_

_Hogan regarded him with surprise, not sure how he felt at those words or what exactly they were supposed to mean. _

"_You´re in here, too.", he finally managed to say. Newkirk shrugged and closed the barrack´s door tightly._

"_I´m here because I don't want you to be all alone, guv." _

"_Really?" As odd as their encounter was turning out to be, Hogan couldn't help but feel happy at those words. Newkirk wouldn't leave him alone even if they were different._

"_Well, it´s one of the reasons.", Newkirk answered cryptically. _

"_There are others?", Hogan asked as he stepped closer to the door._

"_Cor, gov´nor. You and I need to talk." _

_For the first time Hogan felt a little nervous as he stared into the other man´s eyes. He didn´t want them to have to _talk_. All they did was talk and argue and debate. He wanted peace…and yet so much more than that._

_Yet he had no choice but to keep looking; everything around them seemed to blur out of focus whenever he looked away from Newkirk._

_When he didn't answer, Newkirk continued. He spoke differently than usually, even his expression seemed somewhat off. Instead of starting with one of his usual acceptance speeches, he flashed Hogan a brilliant smile over lowered lashes. _

"_I know what you want. It doesn't matter how much you pretend to be fine, or that you don't care. I can feel you looking at me; I know you think about me all the time, even more now that I know how you feel. You can´t help it, you can´t stop wondering…what if…" _

_Hogan had walked towards him even further without realizing it, until they were only inches apart from each other. They stared at each other intently while those last words lingered between them._

_Newkirk wore an expression that he only ever flashed at his lady friends, as he leaned in closer. Something in the far back of his head was telling Hogan to back off, that this wasn't right, but his body wouldn't respond. He simply kept staring into the other man´s eyes while his heart almost leapt out of his chest._

"_What if…", he whispered himself, his hands somehow finding their way onto Newkirk´s shoulders. The corporal didn't move at the touch, not even when Hogan leaned in a little more. _

"_Is this a dream?", he asked softly, his breath already hitting the other´s lips. Newkirk smiled amiably as he wrapped his arms around Hogan´s waist, pulling him closer. _

"_Yes." _

_With that, he crossed the remaining distance between their mouths and kissed Hogan. _

_The mere action wiped the colonel´s brain clean within half a second. Soon, all he could feel or think of were those lips passionately parting his´, that lean body pressed against his own. _

_He moaned quietly and pulled Newkirk even closer to him, reveling in the bliss that was enveloping him. As their kiss grew more and more passionate, he pressed Newkirk into the bunk´s frame, closing any possible space between them. _

_Only when Newkirk suddenly winced did he let go in surprise and alarm. _

"_What is it?", he asked, ready to step back but Newkirk swiftly grabbed him and held him close. _

"_Just me ribs…", he shrugged it off as though it didn't matter: "They´re still a mite sore, is all…" _

_His words immediately caused a new wave of guilt to wash over Hogan but he was quickly distracted when Newkirk suddenly pulled his sweater over his head and carelessly threw it on the bunk. _

"_´S not so bad, see?", he reassured him, pointing at the faint shades of green on his skin. He sat down on the bunk, pulling Hogan with him in one swift movement. "Just be gentle."_

_Mesmerized, Hogan let himself be pulled down further. Their lips met once more while he let his hands run over Newkirk´s skin ever so gingerly. The corporal sighed contently and half wrapped his leg around his waist. _

_Hogan was so completely and deliriously happy that not even the sudden opening of the door could disturb him. They both looked up without breaking their embrace just to see Schultz´s red face by the entrance. _

"_Colonel Hogan, Newkirk!", he man protested, more embarrassed than anything. "Please, Colonel Hogan, don't do this to me,.", he whined. _

"_Do what to you?", Hogan winked at him without bothering to get up. _

_The guard grimaced, looking everywhere but at them: "Please, there are already so many things I am not allowed to know, I can't walk around worrying about more things I shouldn't see." _

_The two men grinned at his words, and Hogan waved at him lightly, way too busy with the way Newkirk´s chuckle felt against his throat to really be interested in a discussion. _

"_We´ll be right out, Schultzie. If you don't want anyone to catch us why don't you stand guard for us?" _

"_Thanks a lot, Schultzie.", Newkirk all but chirped, and the guard finally left, furiously mumbling to himself: "I see nothing! Nothing!"_

_He left the two men who were laughing lightly. After a moment, Hogan looked down into Newkirk´s eyes, barely concealing the mischief in his eyes. _

"_Now. Where were we?", he asked softly. _

_Newkirk grinned, his hand gently cupping Hogan´s face: "Don't tell me you forgot already?"_

_Hogan shrugged: "Remind me, will you? Just to be sure." _

_He didn't get any further because their mouths met again, and this time they didn't part for a long time._

"**-**gan! Colonel Hogan!"

Hogan shot up in his bunk the second he realized it wasn't Newkirk anymore calling his name. He blinked a little alarmed until he realized he was in his office and Olson was standing in his door frame. "Sorry, sir. Roll call, thought I´d let you know.", the man muttered before he hurried out into the main room again.

Hogan took a moment to collect his thoughts before he had to get up and stand outside in the cold. His dream had been warm and soft and comfortable; he could have stayed there forever. He sighed heavily when the last remnants of bliss were superseded by memories of the previous night.

He was sure that hadn't been a dream at all, and if it was only for the fact that none of his gang had come I here to wake him up.

With some effort he got dressed and eventually stepped into the main room. His suspicions were confirmed when he watched the men scurry outside hastily, among them LeBeau and Kinch who didn't seem to see him.

_Trying to avoid confrontation then, huh?,_ he thought bitterly as he went to join the others out in the cold. _Well, good luck trying that in a matchbox with barbed wire around it_.

Unless one party decided to hide in the tunnels for the rest of the war, they would have to come clean.

Not now though, he decided as Klink approached them, starting into his usual speech right away.

It was hard watching the work party leave for the factory and Hogan wished he would have gotten up sooner so he could talk to Newkirk and warn him again. As it was, he stayed behind, with three sets of eyes boring into his back from behind.

Working in the factory didn't help much in taking Newkirk´s head off his worries. Again and again, he thought their situation over, wondering what he could do to make it right. They were a team after all, friends; something like that couldn't tear them apart…could it?

He shuddered involuntarily when he thought of the face Carter had made when asked if he would still accept him as a friend if he weren´t interested in women.

At the same time, there was something else bothering him.

His growing concern for Colonel Robert Hogan. Or maybe it wasn't something else but just the other side of the coin.

Even he couldn't deny by now that his concern went beyond the normal range. Or that he shouldn't even bother to think about Carter´s reaction if he were like Hogan. He wasn't after all. So what was that all about?

He´d always respected and admired his CO, but now he felt as though the colonel's grief was his own, like he had to keep him safe so he himself wouldn't have to feel the hurt. Those thoughts were what bothered him most of all. Was he losing it now, too?

Again the image of their encounter in Hochstetter's cell flashed across his mind vividly. It seemed to be haunting him. Those eyes, those words…

He tried focusing on his actual job then, to take his mind off those unsettling things.

There was no one watching him at the moment and the guard at the door was smoking a cigarette down the hall. Newkirk didn't waste any more time. Without attracting attention he left his post, made a bee line for the door and slipped into the room before anyone could stop him.

Inside he immediately went over to the shelves holding several thick folders and boxes. There was a tall desk with some more files on it and he decided to check those first. Quickly, he started going through file after file trying to find anything that resembled blueprints. The minutes ran by and he was starting to get nervous. He couldn't spend all day in here; someone was bound to miss him eventually.

"Oh, bloody hell…", he murmured softly: "Where are they…?"

"You haven't checked the safe yet, have you?", a voice from behind him asked and Newkirk spun around on his heels just to find himself face to face with Richter.

* * *

oops, someone´s in trouble^^

(1) That´s actually a quote from the Tv series Lost in case anyone was wondering. It´s what Jack´s tatoos mean.

Now, i know Hogan would not have watched that show but i thought it was fitting so there it is.

-as for the dream sequence, i know it´s not the nonplusultra but i just had to slash them, and in reality it wouldnt be fitting yet for them to do much.

hence a dream. Poor Hogan...snif, dont worry it gets worse lol


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10: where were we? :-)

Oh, right Newkirk´s in trouble.

There´s some actual slash in this one though it´s not Hogan. Richter´s setting his plan into motion^^

* * *

Newkirk thought his heart would leap out of his chest when he heard the voice behind him. He spun around, only to see that his little detour had not gone unnoticed.

Richter stood by the door, eyeing him with what would pass for bemused curiosity. If he had been less terrified Newkirk was sure he would have been mad at how little surprise or uncertainty there was on the other man's face.

It was like he had expected him to do something like this, like he´d waited for it. Just like the others had apprehended. Well, bloody hell, he could get shot being caught doing less than this. All he could try to do was get out if he still could, play dumb maybe…

"Sorry, mate.", he said jovially: "I was just looking for the foreman, to ask him to slow down the assembly line´s speed. The guys can´t keep up, ya know? I´ll come back later then…"

He made to slip past Richter but stopped dead in his tracks when the man let the door fall shut right in front of him.

"Liar.", the captain lightly shook his head and had alarm bells ring in Newkirk´s head: "You´re not going anywhere, corporal."

´_He will try to get to me through you_…´, Hogan´s words penetrated his mind then and he took a cautious step back before the man could decide to push or grab him. The last thing the needed right now was to be gutted on some desk in a munitions factory. Even though that could be seen as comic irony: So close to the plans and then his blood would make them unreadable….

Yeah…he never had been good at positive thinking….

Richter crossed his arms behind his back and took a large step forward; Newkirk was forced to back up two if he wanted to keep his space. His incisors gleamed in the dimly lit room.

Something about that predatory smile on the taller man´s face made him pretty certain that -if he planned on doing it- Richter would not kill him quickly or without a warning. The question was if it was really better to see it coming…

Well, it might give him time to make up a plan. For now he just stood there defensively, trying to stay cautious of the man´s movements without appearing jumpy.

"You know what I think, corporal?", Richter suddenly asked slyly, still looking him up and down, still with that predatory gleaming in his light eyes.

Newkirk didn't answer. He was way too busy trying to think of a way out to participate in Richter's mind games. The man didn't seem to mind though; he just kept talking like he didn't expect an answer in the first place:

"I think you came in here looking for something else. Care to tell me what exactly?"

"Already did.", Newkirk answered curtly while he debated with himself.

The way to the door was blocked.

None of the others were here to help him, so he had to find a way out for himself.

With that ever-present mask of countenance in place it was hard to tell what Richter was aiming at. If he really suspected him, why hadn't he arrested him yet, or at least called the guards…? Maybe he was more of a do-it-yourself-guy. Ugh…

Newkirk grit his teeth, unnoticeably shifting his position a bit in case it would come to a fight. Richter didn't seem to have a gun or knife on him, but there might be one hidden underneath his uniform. So he needed the element of surprise.

If he could help it, Newkirk shouldn't knock the man out to get away, it would destroy the mission and get him into a lot of trouble. Better to keep pretending he was innocent and had no idea what Richter was talking about.

As it was, Richter made no move to pull out a weapon. He looked around the room, his eyes briefly lingering on the chaos on the desk. He obviously had some idea what was going on, so why_, why_, was he still pretending that he didn't?

"Oh, I´ve heard you."; Richter turned his attention back to Newkirk: "See, the problem is that I don't believe a word of it. You know what the problem with faith is, corporal?"

Newkirk blinked, thrown off by a question like that. What was this, he was preparing for a death match while that made dinner conversation?

"Can´t say I do.", he huffed distractedly: "But I do believe I will be missed at my post, so…"

"The problem.", Richter cut him off: "Is that knowledge makes it impossible as well as unnecessary. Do you see my point?"

He did. "No.", he lied.

Knowledge. He had to know about them from Hochstetter. He had to have some bigger plan or he wouldn't play them like this. What was it?

Newkirk made sure his face was completely neutral as he decided he had to try and find out. Who knew, the way Richter seemed to like to talk, maybe he would slip up soon…

Instead of being distracted by Hochstetter though, Richter returned to his quest. He clicked his tongue disapprovingly, edging closer still:

"If you don't want to get more specific, I'll just have to guess, wont I?", he smiled.

He tilted his head to the side, a lose streak of blonde hair falling into his cold eyes. Another step forward was rewarded with two more backwards. From this close up, it was even more striking how much taller the captain was.

He would have made a jolly good quarterback. Well, if he hadn't _so _been on the other team…

Newkirk shook his head to get rid of those silly thoughts.

He raised his chin defiantly, straightening up instinctively in the process. He didn't answer the question once more; Richter was going somewhere with his speech and maybe he would at least find out what exactly his and Hochstetter´s plan was.

Richter looked at him thoughtfully, a mockery that was betrayed by the smirk threatening to pull up the corners of his mouth:

"Now, it could either be information that you want to use against us or something entirely different. No matter what it is, I could have you shot for it."

He stepped even closer and Newkirk stepped back only to realize that he was already standing directly in front of the shelf. Richter was way too close for his liking now and he barely suppressed the urge to push the man away forcefully. _No, let him talk, Peter, it might be something valuable_, he told himself.

"Why don't you call the guards already?", he challenged from behind grit teeth, even though he knew it was just reckless. But the way this man literally cornered him just set him off.

What was that man´s problem anyway? The way he regarded him made him think of a cat watching a mouse and at the same time of something else…someone else´s eyes that burned his skin in a similar way.

Richter chuckled, the glee in his expression replaced with something darker: "And deprive myself of your company?"

Anger flared up inside of Newkirk at the open mockery but it was quickly smoldered by the realization that that wasn't all there was to those words.

A notion was gnawing at his conscience then, a memory that was just outside his reach trying to push itself into awareness. It slowly froze his anger, but not before he could reply sardonically:

"What makes you think I would be good company?" _Unless you consider a letter opener in your throat an icebreaker,_ he added mentally.

"Oh, I can think of some things that would be worth giving it a try."

Again with the implications. By now, his mind was practically screaming at him, while he tried to push its warnings aside forcefully. He was just messing with him, trying to scare him off now. But two could play that game.

"Like what?", he demanded without blinking, taking the bait.

Richter chuckled softly. His arms came up against the iron frame of the shelf, one gloved hand on each side of Newkirk´s head. He smiled as he leaned in closer and lowered his voice conspiratorially: "One thing or the other. In no specific order."

It took him unusually long to make some sense of the other´s words, mostly because his mind was still refusing to accept what was happening. When it did though, he immediately managed to put the expression in Richter's face into context. It was the same Hogan had when he looked at him.

Newkirk felt his breath catch in his throat.

No, that couldn't be, he was seeing things now. Richter was just playing him, knowing what he did about Hogan and the kiss. He hadn't been able to scare him with violence so he had moved on…Suddenly Newkirk found himself wishing the words had contained another death threat instead. _That_ he could handle….

"I have no idea what you're talking about.", he finally said, unable to keep all traces of strain and irritation out of his voice: "You mind taking your hands off?"

Richter pretended he hadn't heard the last part and kept pushing.

"Come now, corporal, don't play dumb. Major Hochstetter has told me all about you and your Colonel Hogan. I have to admit when I first came here I thought he was right stupid to risk so much for an affair, but I´m starting to see the appeal."

Newkirk couldn't help but flinch at those words, whether because of the implication that Hogan was _his_ or the continued innuendo. Oh, this was wrong on so many levels…

"Hochstetter´s mad as a bicycle, mate.", he retorted forcefully: "I´m not like-" He stopped himself harshly before finishing the phrase, the hurt caused by Carter´s expression earlier on flaring up in his mind. "We are not involved in that way.", he declared instead.

Richter's left hand was on his neck so suddenly that he jumped back painfully into the shelve. It wasn't a choking hold as he´d feared, but damn close to becoming one. He bared his teeth as he fought not to slap the man's hands away, even when his gloved thumb brushed lightly over his throat. He had to give it to Richter. If he was playing a part, he was doing a marvelous job at it.

"You´re free then?", Richter's breath hit his cheek as he spoke, his icy eyes boring into Newkirk´s with what could be interpreted as promise or threat.

It did nothing for his heart rate.

"That's not what I meant.", Newkirk pressed out behind gritted teeth, barely keeping his countenance: "What I'm saying is, I know what Hochstetter plans. He wants to hurt the colonel and he thinks he can accomplish that through me. Well, I´ve got bad news for you and the major: I'm not his lover. So _you_ can drop the act now and come up with a better plan."

"So, we´re done with the courtesies?"; Richter chuckled without moving an inch: "Straight to the point, huh? I like that. Well, then let me tell you something, corporal. You're right about Hochstetter, he's far from done with Hogan. But here´s what you got wrong: it doesn't matter if you're sweet on your colonel. The only thing that matters is that _he _loves you."

"That's ridiculous, he…"

"-Used his last two breaths to tell you just that and then kiss you."; Richter interrupted him unimpressed: "He was ready to take a bullet for you. Which means he will again."

There was no mask now to hide his cruel sneer.

The sudden abandonment of all pretenses had come unexpected and Newkirk needed a moment to set his mind to it and process what he´d heard. Then, he went from flustered to furious to horrified in under five seconds.

"You sodding bastard!", he hissed in rage and finally forgot the rest of his caution. He grabbed the collar of Richter's uniform harshly with one arm, lashing out with the other to strike the man.

Richter caught his fist deftly just before it connected with his face; with a velocity that was only overshadowed by his strength, he pried Newkirk´s fingers off his collar and slammed both of his wrists into the shelf's frame. Newkirk gasped at the painful impact, uselessly trying to break free. Richter just grinned as he held him without even breaking a sweat.

"Flattery will get you nowhere, corporal.", he quipped, obviously pretty pleased with himself.

He leaned back forward, his fingers flexing on Newkirk´s wrists: "Oh, and another thing. It´s not an act."

Newkirk, too caught up in his struggle and fury to really listen, had just opened his mouth to grace Richter with some more choice words, when strange lips suddenly crushed his, parting them forcefully.

It wasn't a kiss, at least not in the way he thought any kiss would be. It felt like a searing exclamation mark, like the point Richter was trying to bring across. He was utterly trapped, with no room to back up, no air left in his lungs. Just pain and the notion that there was nothing he could do to make it stop.

By the time Newkirk thought to just bite the man´s tongue off it was already over.

Richter leaned back and finally let go off him. Newkirk glared at him viciously, his fingers trembling with rage as he wiped them over his mouth. He couldn't believe that had actually just happened. It wasn't an act alright.

He could feel his body going into shock and decided that rage was preferable at this point.

"You…sick…sonofa…", he cursed tonelessly.

"What now, corporal? That not how you like it?", his grin made Newkirk want to hit him even harder. He would have too, hadn't he feared to be grabbed like that again.

Richter smiled down on him, casually straightening his uniform, as though nothing had happened: "Maybe I should have Colonel Hogan give me some tips then. He seemed to have the hang of it from what I hear."

Newkirk practically snarled at him, fists shaking. There were no words vile enough to throw at that man basking in his own evilness. No, he wouldn't let him provoke him like that, no matter how much self-control it took. And he was _so_ not going to compare that bastard to Colonel Hogan. Not in any way and especially not in_ that _department.

"Why are you really here?", he hissed instead: "Is Hochstetter so hypocritical that he puts up with you to just screw with the governor´s head?"

Richter was obviously enjoying his anger; he smirked, lightly shaking his head. To Newkirk´s surprise he actually got an answer though:

"I´m doing Hochstetter a favor that might pay off later in my career. Of course the major has no idea how close to my… personal preferences this assignment is. Don't you see how nicely this all works out? I get to kill two birds with one stone."

Apart from the upsetting fact that he was actually calling him a _bird_ now, next to treating him like one, Newkirk had other things to focus his anger on:

"And you think I'm just gonna stand by and let that happen? Think twice, mate, cause I will…"

Richter interrupted him with a self confidence that was bone-shattering: "You´ll what? Tell Hogan? Please do. Oh, I am sure he would be furious at finding out, ready to kill even. I would love nothing more than having the excuse of taking him down in self-defense."

There was no saying what Newkirk would have done once he had gotten back the sensation in his limbs and feet. Strangling Richter seemed way too merciful by now…

As it was he was still digesting the gruesome image of Hogan dead at Richter's feet when the door suddenly opened and Schultz waltzed in. He heavyset guard looked at them both- at Newkirk´s pale features and Richter´s victorious calm- with some confusion before he obviously decided not to ask any questions.

"Newkirk, you need to get back to your post now. The foreman is asking for you."

After a brief moment of silence, Newkirk forced his eyes to break away from Richter's and quickly slipped past him to get to the door. The captain made no move to stop him; he merely looked after him with satisfaction:

"Yes, you should. We wouldn't want anyone to get hurt because you neglected your duties, do we now?"

The door slammed in his face did nothing to block out his laughter.

All day long, Hogan had told himself over and over again that there was nothing to worry about. He had successfully provoked Richter into taking him on personally instead of his men; otherwise he wouldn't have requested his presence at dinner. Still, he couldn't tear his thoughts away from Newkirk and the factory.

He had tried to take his mind off it by pestering Klink but the commandant's behavior had only reminded him that his men weren't the only ones wary of him these days.

So he had spent most of the day alone, outside thinking or down in the tunnels. If the other men in camp noticed his strange behavior, no one tried to talk to him about it.

When the truck with the workers finally passed the front gate he couldn't wait to talk to Newkirk. Hopefully he had the plans and this would all be over soon.

It took only one look into his corporal´s face to know that something wasn't right.

* * *

Recap: If Newkirk tells Hogan, he endangers him so he wants to wait two more days till the factory blows up and Richter will be gone anyway. No risk from his POV (well except for the obvious one) but next chapter will show that its not quite that easy, because Richter hasnt told him all of his plan.

Reading this again, i myself was getting confused as to whats going on.

i hope thats only because i have the whole thing planned out in my head and that it´s not like that to the readers. if it is, next chapter will hopefully shed some light on the whole thing.

urgh, thats what you get for wanting a plot...:-


	11. Chapter 11

The first thing that Hogan noticed was off about Newkirk was his face.

The corporal had always been rather fair skinned but now he looked pale as a sheet. The second was the smug look on Richter´s face as he greeted him sloppily from a distance.

"What happened?", he whispered urgently when Newkirk approached the barracks, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his overcoat.

For a brief moment there was an odd look of dread in those green eyes as they zeroed in on his face. Then, as though it had just been imagination, Newkirk looked to the side and merely shrugged: "Sorry, sir, couldn't find ´em."

"The plans?"

"Yeah.", Newkirk replied shortly.

His shoulders were tense and he glanced over to the Kommandantur. Hogan followed his eyes to see Richter talking to Klink on the porch, his eyes directed at them.

Immediately, the bad feeling in his stomach returned full force and he stared at the man in front of him intently. "What happened?", he repeated tensely.

Newkirk absentmindedly chewed on lower lip, still looking anywhere but directly at his CO: "I didn't have enough time to look around, is all. I´ll try again tom-"

"No, I mean did something happen with Richter?", Hogan interrupted him.

He didn't like this, this apathy. Normally Newkirk would have been angry with himself for not getting the job done, ranting on and on. But now his expression was carefully blank and it was more upsetting than anything else.

"What did he do?", he all but snarled, unable to hide his anger. That lying bastard…

His tone had Newkirk tense up even more, briefly disrupting his apathy to show fear.

"Nothing, sir.", he said with more force than necessary: "I´m dealing with it, don't worry."

Hogan didn't believe a word of it. Even now, Newkirk wouldn't look at him, his profile showing just enough of the inner turmoil he was trying to conceal. What wasn't he telling him?

"Newkirk."

With slight irritation, he reached up to pull Newkirk´s head back to make him face him. He was shocked when the other´s eyes flew wide open and he slapped his hand away.

"Don't!", he gasped, eyes wide for the briefest of second.

Hogan was taken aback by the action as much as by how much pain it caused him. His hand lingered in the air for another moment before he pulled it back rashly. Chagrin washed through him but he tried to conceal it as professionally as he could.

Newkirk´s face fell immediately when he recognized the expression on Hogan´s face. He made a move like he wanted to step forward, but stopped himself in the middle of it.

"Gov´nor, I´m…it´s not…",

"I gotta go.", Hogan said curtly, already turning around: "The others are waiting inside for your report."

He didn't wait for a response before he hurriedly stepped up to the porch. Richter was still standing there, apparently waiting for him. Hogan suppressed the urge to smack that insufferable smile off his face as he rushed past him.

The evening promised to become just as miserable as the hours preceding it.

Once inside the barracks, Newkirk barely took the time to greet the other guys before he headed into the tunnels.

Only there, far enough from Kinch and the radio that he wouldn't be heard, did he allow himself to let his frustration out on the wall. He hit it until his knuckles protested and then some more.

Bloody hell…how had he gotten into a mess like this? The whole day had been one single roller coaster ride –straight downhill.

First, the mess with Richter and his advances, if you could call it that. Back in the office he had been so furious and later so consumed with fear for Colonel Hogan's life that it had almost completely overshadowed the less dominant issue. He shuddered as he remembered the brute force restraining him, being absolutely powerless to fight back physically.

The realization that he had been lucky today sunk in as somewhat of an aftershock. Richter hadn't really hurt him, but he could have done so easily.

That too made his threats against Hogan even more terrifying. The colonel was a strong man, probably much stronger than Newkirk himself, but he doubted even he could take on Richter face to face.

And Richter's threats weren't empty, Newkirk was absolutely certain of that. Before and during this war, he had dealt with enough psychos to know that he would kill everyone in his way without flinching.

That was why it hadn't taken him long to decide what he had to do.

Even before he left the factory had he decided not to tell Hogan. No, he would play along in whatever game Richter intended to play. What were one or two more days of discomfort against jeopardizing Colonel Hogan's life?

He leaned against the tunnel wall heavily. Before his closed eyes, the images of Richter killing Hogan were rotating like a film. He knew Richter and Hochstetter wanted revenge on Hogan but they couldn't get to him legally. So they had changed their tactics: They would provoke and pester Hogan until he gave them a direct reason to kill him.

And Newkirk wasn't about to let that happen. If there was even a slight chance that Hogan might attack Richter upon hearing of what had happened today he would never ever know about it.

"_Just till we blow up the factory…",_ he whispered to himself, eyes closed tightly.

So Richter had kissed him. He´d had worse.

It hadn't even been the first time to be kissed by a man.

He couldn't help but laugh at that thought. Even in his lowest moments he had never been able to muster the feeling disdain or disgust he felt for Richter now in connection to what Hogan had done. It had shocked him, yes, confused the hell out of him…funny, now in comparison, he minded even less.

Too bad he couldn't tell the colonel, he might be relieved considering the way he walked on eggshells around him.

Regret washed through him once more as he thought of their encounter in the compound minutes ago and how he´d pushed him away once more. He had been so on edge, so very aware of Richter staring at them, his words still on his mind.

_´If he loves you he´ll die for you.`_

He had acted on pure instinct back there, desperately avoiding any more proof of Richter's words. But of course Hogan had taken it personally.

"Bloody hell…what a mess.", he murmured once more. He would have to find a way to apologize for that later on without tipping Hogan of about Richter's plan.

Dinner was dragging.

Hogan sat with Klink and Richter, listening to them gloat about recent victories of their side since hours. And all that left him with was to think about the way Newkirk had slapped his hand away from his face. It still stung, even as he worked hard to push it into the back of his mind. After all, he was here to make sure Newkirk was safe; drowning in self-pity would have to wait for later.

Frustrated, he stabbed a piece of broccoli imagining it was a certain blonde captain.

He needed to speak openly with Richter, make sure his attention was on him instead of Newkirk, but how could he with Klink sitting right there?

Thankfully, the bottle of wine they were working on was empty right then and he offered to get more from the kitchen.

Schultz was sitting at the kitchen table gnawing on a chicken leg. He looked the least bit embarrassed when he saw he had been caught.

"Hey, Schultz.", Hogan said softly as he looked about for another bottle.

"Having fun with the big shots?", Schultz grinned at him, pieces of meat between his teeth. Hogan couldn't help but muster up a small smile for him.

"Not as much as they´re having with me. But I'm about to change that."

Worry crossed the guard´s face at his words and he started to get up: "Colonel Hogan please, I will get in trouble…"

Hogan patted him lightly on the shoulder, then went back to opening the bottle with a corkscrew: "Don't worry, Schultzie, just stay in here watching those chicken legs and nothing else."

He was about to head outside again when a thought occurred to him and he turned around once more: "Say, Schultz, did you happen to notice anything unusual going on with Captain Richter at the factory today?"

"You mean with him and the Englander?", Schultz replied without thinking twice. Hogan gulped; if something was obvious to Schultz how would it look to him?

"Yeah.", he said tonelessly, his fingers clamping down on the door handle.

Schultz shifted in his chair noisily, looking slightly uncomfortable now. "I was making my rounds when I noticed Newkirk wasn't at his post. I went to tell Captain Richter in the office but he had already found him."

"Found him, what do you mean?"

"Newkirk was in there with him. I wasn't sure if I had interrupted something so I just told him to go back outside and he did."

"What were they doing?", Hogan asked tensely, stepping closer to the table again. Schultz opened his mouth to answer but he didn't get to it.

"Don't you know that it´s not polite to talk about someone behind their back, colonel?", Richter was standing by the kitchen door, grinning openly: "Everything you want to know you can simply ask me."

Hogan refused to let it show just how much he´d startled him, and simply glared at the man:

"Good, because I have a list."

Richter nodded, unsurprised, and then faced Schultz who was in the process of coughing up a piece of chicken that was choking him. Apparently, Richter had spooked him, too.

"Sergeant, Colonel Klink requests your presence in the dining room.", the captain moved to the side, making room for Schultz to leave: "Take your time, understood?"

Schultz didn't have to be told twice. With the little oxygen he had at his disposal he muttered something illegible and hurried out of the room. The door had barely closed when Hogan couldn't keep his anger to himself anymore.

"Alright, what are you doing?", he snapped. Richter merely raised an eyebrow as he leaned against the door, arms crossed in front of him.

"I´m afraid you´ll have to be more specific than that.", he said playfully. Hogan couldn't bite back a snarl. That bastard actually seemed to draw energy from the hatred he inspired in him.

"I thought we agreed that if you had a problem with me you'd take it up with me.", he clarified, fighting to keep his calm: "What were you doing with Newkirk?"

"Oh.", Richter tapped his temple, his grin widening: "See, colonel, that's where the misunderstanding lies. _You_ said to steer clear. Sadly, you don't hold any power over me though."

He stepped closer, leaning towards Hogan just like he had in Klink´s office, his voice dropping: "I can do whatever I want. With you… or your corporal for that matter."

Hogan knew the word were meant to set him off, to make him lose control, and he wasn't about to give him that satisfaction. Instead he replied calmly, making it clear that Richter wasn't the only one who understood the rules of the game:

"No, you can't. Otherwise you would have done something already instead of prancing around and making empty threats."

He knew it was risky to provoke Richter like that, to belittle him when he actually had a lot of power over them. But it was his only shot, and he knew he was at least partially right. No matter how much this man liked to play games, he was still under Hochstetter´s command and was expected to get results.

Richter´s falling face told him he was right about both. Richter had some plan, and he didn't like being mocked. Expectedly, he struck back, returning to the subject he knew was a sore spot for Hogan.

"So what did Corporal Newkirk tell you about his day? Not much apparently, if you have to ask a German guard for information. Maybe you should spend less time cuddling him and more time tending to your business."

Hogan stared at him with all the spite he could muster, but stayed quiet in lack of a satisfying answer. Newkirk hadn't told him anything, even though there clearly was something.

"Make no mistake.", he finally said quietly but deadly: "If anything is wrong, I will find out. And then I won't care about your rank or your connections."

If possible, Richter's smile widened: "Oh, I´m counting on that, colonel."

Hogan suddenly felt more than fed up with this game, with Richter's glee and especially his steady disregard for personal space.

"Stop playing around!", he spat: "Just tell me what it is you want already."

Richter lightly shook his head, pulling a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket. He took his time lighting one and taking a few drags before he graced Hogan with an answer:

"Really, I'm surprised you have to ask. But fine I´ll indulge you." He blew smoke in his general direction, angering Hogan further.

"As you can imagine, Major Hochstetter is very keen on seeing you again, colonel, since you two were so rudely interrupted last time. My job is simply to arrange a meeting."

Hogan didn't have to ask what he meant by that. He knew Hochstetter couldn't come into camp himself, and he had no valid reason to arrest him. He obviously needed Hogan to come to him when no one was there to stop it.

"So, what´s his plan?", he inquired: "You help me escape and he picks me up on the other side of the fence?"

"It's a little more complex than that.", Richter corrected him, casually waving the cigarette in the air: "You do remember confessing to being a saboteur, ja? Well, conveniently enough there is a munitions factory not ten miles from here. You´ll go out to blow it up, and he´ll meet you there with all the proof he needs to arrest you."

Hogan had a hard time keeping a straight face.

For Hochstetter, the plan wasn´t half bad. And considering that he had to blow up that factory anyway, maybe he could work with this turn of events and kill two birds with one stone. The prospect of regaining some of his control after all, cheered him up considerably, and he fought hard not to let it show on his face.

"And you´re letting me in on that brilliant ruse because you think I´ll do it for the thrill of the adventure?", he played along, careful to sound incredulous. Now that he knew what was going on, he was in his element, already plotting and scheming.

Richter didn't seem to notice the change:

"No, I think you´ll do it because otherwise I will catch your Corporal Newkirk stealing assets or going through secret files again, only this time I will call a guard and make sure he gets the proper punishment. Do we understand each other?"

So that was what Richter had caught Newkirk doing today. Another mystery was solved. Hogan refused to let the repeated threat dampen his confidence.

He needn't worry. As long as Richter believed Hogan was complying, he wouldn´t have a reason to hurt Newkirk. And he wouldn't know he was being played himself until it was too late.

"Perfectly.", he answered darkly, putting just the right amount of gloom and desperation into his voice to pull it off.

Richter nodded, satisfied:

"Well, then I think we should get back to the party. Enjoy life while it lasts."

The rest of the evening was spent drowning shot after shot of liquor. While it helped convince Richter even further that he was trying to drown his sorrow, it also helped block out the fresh memories of rejection that were still gnawing at him along with Klink´s mindless chatter.

Before he knew it, he was drunk enough to even laugh at the commandant´s jokes.

Hogan slipped into the barracks quietly, not wanting to wake up the sleeping men. Everything was a bit blurry and he had to steady himself from time to time, but he dismissed it as another necessary evil. This war demanded many sacrifices; making out with spies and getting completely hammered for his fatherland were among Hogan's favorites.

And that was why he had done it: To fool Richter. Not because he was still freaking heartbroken.

Finally finding out about Richter´s plan had given him some of his confidence back; it hadn't let him forget that he was still utterly screwed on several levels. But at least now there was something he could do –once he´d enjoyed one rare night off blissful oblivion that was.

He took some solace from the notion that while his private affairs were an utter mess, at least his operation could be saved now. That was enough to keep him from completely giving in to self-pity, he was sure. Until he saw _it._

There was light coming out from under his door, making it clear to him that his night was not over yet. After a long moment of hesitance, he opened it apprehensively.

Kinch was standing by his desk, looking up when he heard footsteps.

"Something up?", Hogan required somewhat fidgety, internally wishing he could finally have some private time for once.

The grave expression on Kinch´s face though made it clear that that wasn´t about to happen just yet. Heck, so much for his newfound confidence.

"Sir, I thought we could talk."

* * *

and another cliffhanger. told you i live for those:-)

i´d like to stress that newkirk was just freaked out by hogans touch because he new richter was watching, not because i have forgotten that he was fine with hogan being gay for the past six chapters :-)

anyway, richters plan turns out to be more complex, like promised and since our heroes do such a great job at communicating with each other they wont know what richter has told the other one for quite some time. hope that plays out well.

there´ll be like five or so more chapters now, then i´m done. just in time since i wont have internet in november while i´m moving.

hope you liked it! Please R&R


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12 coming right up.

just a heads up, this was the last chapter i had ready on my computer, now i´ll have to start writing a whole seven pages again so it might just take a while.

-hogan get´s really drunk in this one. i don´t think he would in canon, but i dont think he would have to deal with this kind of problem there. so i hope it isnt too disturbing.

anyways, enjoy. Please R&R

* * *

"Sir, I thought we could talk."

Hogan squinted his eyes, trying to block out the harsh light in his office.

He thought the frown on the radio man's face should tell him something, but he couldn't quite put a finger on it. All he wanted right now was to be alone, maybe go back to one of his more pleasant dreams.

"´Bout what?", he slurred, thereby deepening the lines on Kinch´s face.

"Are you drunk, sir?", he asked incredulously. It wasn't often that Hogan let his control slip like that.

"Is that what you want to talk about?", he asked irritated, slouching over to his bunk to throw his jacket and crush cap on it. He started going through his stuff trying to find a flask he knew he had. Something told him that he would want it sooner rather than later.

He found it and started pouring some of its content into a glass on the desk.

Whiskey. Perfect.

Maybe him passing out right there would convince Kinch to postpone talking business into the morning.

"No.", Kinch replied hesitantly. He took a deep breath, then he looked steady and sinister once more: "I want you to tell me I'm wrong."

Somewhere underneath Hogan´s general bad mood and grogginess, a darker, colder emotion stirred and reminded him that Richter's death threats weren't his only problem.

He didn't have to ask what this was about. Leave it to Kinch to be more perceptive than the rest of the men; it would explain the weird looks he had given him all week.

Hogan briefly closed his eyes.

He really didn't want to talk about _that_, now less than ever, no he wanted to bury it for as long as he could, and instead revel in the only success he´d had all week. Their mission.

But he had a hunch that Kinch would not simply leave now that he had gathered the courage to talk to his CO.

He didn't even ask what the tall sergeant meant by _wrong._

"And lie to your face?", he asked detachedly, watching as Kinch flinched at the words.

They stared at each other for a moment, neither of them backing off. Hogan took a large gulp of liquor, savoring the way it burned in his throat. There was no going back now, but he hoped he could at least ease the way a bit.

Hogan knew that Kinch had hoped to have his fears eased, but he was done lying to his men.

Kinch bit his lip, apparently realizing that Hogan wasn't going to deny anything.

"You´ve done it all this time, haven't you?", he challenged, torn between desperation and bitterness: "Why stop now?"

Briefly, Hogan wondered if it would be appropriate for him to be as upset as Kinch looked. Then again, he was almost grateful for the numbness that enveloped him; it made this so much easier, even if it just postponed the inevitable grief until he sobered up in the morning.

For a moment he debated whether Kinch´s question really demanded an answer, then he responded just to be on the safe side.

"That was different. I was a different person then."

_There´s nothing better than near death experiences to shift one´s priorities,_ he thought half amused. It was true but he didn't know if Kinch would understand that; he hadn't been there with them.

"I see.", Kinch said after a while, his face and eyes dark despite the light from the ceiling. The way he looked at his CO was different from before, like he was a stranger, not a confidant: "At first I hoped the others were right, that I had it wrong. I just couldn't believe it. But I´d have to be blind not to see the way you look at him. I…", he brought a hand to his face, clearly conflicted: "I…how could you, colonel? It´s not normal, not how God intended!"

Hogan thought he would burst out laughing maniacally at that, but he restrained himself knowing that once he started laughing it would end in tears.

God. In all this time, he hadn't once thought of that aspect.

After all, how much could he give on the opinion of a god who had led him down a path of death and destruction, who had given him love only to make him watch it being ripped away in front of him?

"Well, if God didn't intend it then why did he make me feel this way in the first place?", he asked quietly, voice calm, but hands shaking as the held on to his desk.

Kinch didn't answer at first, his expression wavering between confusion and resentment. He didn't seem to like having his beliefs questioned. Well, too bad, Hogan didn't like to have his morality questioned either.

He downed the rest of what his glass contained and refilled it instantly. Even dizzy and tired as he felt, he wasn't drunk enough yet. He should have thought of this sooner; it took the edge off nicely.

When the sergeant finally spoke again, his eyes were devoid of any empathy, his body standing at attention for the last time:

"I want to inform you that I request a transfer. I cannot serve under your command under these circumstances."

Not even the alcohol could buffer the blow those words gave him. He wasn't so much surprised as grieved that he had been right to fear this. He had to wait and make sure his voice was steady before could attempt to answer.

"I see.", Hogan nodded, desperately holding on to the numbness that was like a blanket in an icy night. It was slipping mercilessly, baring his skin to piercing stabs of ice.: "If that is your wish I will arrange for it in the morning."

Kinch nodded without looking at him and Hogan couldn't help but think ruefully of all the times Kinch had been a friend and confidant to him, were it the missions or personal matters. It seemed oddly fitting to see that pillar of his life shattered like glass, considering everything else around him was breaking away.

The office door opened just then, revealing Newkirk´s pale face.

"Colonel, are you…?", he started, but hesitated when he realized Hogan wasn´t alone. He slipped half inside, a frown growing on his face when he saw the other men´s expressions.

"What´s going on ´ere?", he asked suspiciously, worry thick in his tone.

Instead of answering, Kinch walked past him through the door.

"I´ll give you two some privacy.", he muttered in what could have passed for a joke if Hogan hadn't practically tasted the alienation and hostility behind the words on his tongue. And just like that the man he´d thought of as his best friend walked out on him.

Hogan sunk down on the chair behind his desk, sighing heavily. Every last ounce of optimism was gone by now. If he had thought this morning it couldn´t get worse, he had been so wrong. So now his team was breaking apart as well. Figured.

The feeling was beginning to return to his body at the worst possible moment. He took another sip of whiskey, only to have Newkirk stare at him incredulously this time.

He didn't care. Pain was licking up his limbs like flames, scorching him. God, he wished he could just go to sleep already. Go back to the dark.

Oh, he had known back in the cooler that he should have stayed there in the first place. But now it was too late.

As if all that weren't bad enough he was acutely aware of Newkirk´s lingering presence, his eyes on him.

Why was he here again? He hadn't asked.

But he couldn't, he wouldn't deal with him too, now, whatever it was.

He couldn't take another blow without shattering, too. Or shattering something within reach. He wasn't too sure.

"Gov´nor…?", he heard Newkirk´s almost hesitant voice, thought he recognized something along the lines of worry in his tone, but he didn't care. He didn´t want to be pitied and indulged only to be pushed away come morning.

"Go away.", he said without looking up, his forehead leaning heavily on his knuckles: "I´ve had enough for one night."

He couldn't deal with anyone else right now. Especially Newkirk.

Day after day he reigned himself in, fought for control, but now the lines became as blurry as his vision. There were no words to describe how much he wanted Newkirk to leave as soon as possible, partly because he was drunk and not completely in control and that made him want to curl up and drown in self pity.

And partly because he was drunk, not in control and that made him want for Newkirk to stay. One would think that with all he had going on, his infatuation would be the last thing to worry about. But, of course, his desire seemed to grow with his desperation.

He shook his head violently, trying to clear it of the images that were suddenly creeping up on him from behind. Sure, they helped taking his mind of Kinch´s words, but still…

Oh, it had been a stupid idea to hit the bottle like that; apart from not even numbing his emotional turmoil it had made him unstable. Made him notice and feel things that he usually pushed far away.

No, he could not have Newkirk standing there with that look in his eyes. Not at all.

The only trouble was to get him to understand that, preferably without making him understand why.

So he tried his best to appear dismissive while Newkirk stood by the door, somewhat nervously fumbling with the seams of his blue sweater.

"Did you hear me? That was an order."

After a moment the door fell shut and he almost hoped that the corporal had taken a hint for once, but when he looked up sure enough he was still standing in his office. There was an edge of determination to his features that told Hogan he wouldn't sleep unless he either physically threw the man out or told him what he wanted to know.

He sighed, rubbing his eyes: "Kinch wants to be transferred. He says he can´t work with me anymore because of…what I am."

He heard Newkirk gasp for air at that, clearly indignant, and almost chuckled again: Like Kinch´s behavior was so different from his own. He tried not to push him away but he did. And that hurt almost worse than being rejected altogether.

But he couldn't say that to Newkirk´s face. No. Not if he wanted to keep the last shred of pride he had left.

So instead he explained matter of factly:

"I would go myself, but I can't. Not until I have dealt with Richter. He will be out of the picture once we blow up that factory. Then I can ask London to be transferred."

As expected, that struck a nerve with Newkirk who protested immediately:

"Stop that! None of you has to go. We´re a team, we have always worked together. I will talk to Kinch, set him straight…"

Hogan silently gritted his teeth as he took another generous gulp of alcohol, desperately trying to will the man away. He knew there was no point to this anyway. Kinch had made up his mind. Now if Newkirk could just let it go he could move on and try to bury the pain.

But no, how could he even hope for that?

Once Newkirk had his teeth in something he didn't let go easily, especially when it concerned those he cared about. And while Hogan supposed he could count himself lucky that he was still on that list, he almost would have preferred the contrary if it meant Newkirk would give him some much needed space.

"No, you won´t.", he simply said: "It will be easier for all of you if I go. They will send someone new, someone you can feel comfortable having around."

Newkirk shifted uncomfortably, unconsciously proving his point.

"Gov´nor, we don't feel…"

"What?", Hogan asked, irritated by now. His patience was worn thin by incessant exposure. He didn't mean to be harsh, he just couldn't think of another way to end the conversation. So if he had to be rude, he would:

"Don't lie to my face. Can you tell me that you don't flinch every time I come close to you? That you think about what happened when you should just see me as your CO?"

"I…yes, but…", he fell silent, guilt showing on his face.

Hogan looked up at Newkirk, gathering his last shred of diplomacy. It wasn't his fault after all. It was his own.

"I´m not blaming you. I´m just asking you to stop trying to fix it.", he said softly, eyes dark: "You can´t. Now please leave me alone, I´ve had a long day."

He played with the glass in front of him, wondering where its content had suddenly gone. His mind was reeling with images of Richter's sneer, Newkirk´s eyes, Kinch´s resentment, all of them bleeding together, haunting him.

He needed it to stop. He needed to stop thinking about it or he would go mad, and what better way to clear his mind than sleep?

He looked over to the bunk longingly.

With a whiff of annoyance he realized Newkirk was still standing at the door. His eyes were softer than usual, showing a sadness that he hadn't seen in him before but his voice was as calm and steady as ever as he said: "I won´t let this happen. Not like that. You guys can act like ruddy children all you want, we will talk about this and I will fix it no matter what you say."

When Hogan didn't answer, he walked over to the desk, his face burning with determination: "You hear me, gov´nor? You can´t get rid of me that easily. You´re not givin´ up on me now!"

Hogan winced slightly, not because he was being yelled at, but because of the sudden proximity. Damn, that was the last thing he needed right now: Temptation.

From this distance he could almost smell him, soap and cigarette smoke mixed with a more personal note. It had mental images flashing across his mind of the last time he´d touched that skin and hair, smelled and tasted it.

Reluctantly he looked up into his corporal´s face, knowing he wouldn't be able to tear himself away anymore. Almost melancholically, he let his gaze wander over the man's features. More salt in his wounds.

It was no use. _Rude_ wasn't going to cut it.

"I don't want to _talk_, Newkirk.", Hogan said, suddenly looking straight at him: "You still think you want to stay?"

He saw Newkirk flinch slightly, his eyes widening for the fraction of a second. That ought to do the trick, he thought grimly as regret washed over him and he turned back to his whiskey. No more motivational speeches for tonight.

He started when suddenly there were fingers, squeezing his forearm tightly. Newkirk glared at him, his breath washing over him when he asked: "Why are you doing this? Why won´t you let anyone help you, damnit!"

The touch sent a frenzying current through his entire body, chasing away his apathy and replacing it with something far more dangerous. Hastily he shook off Newkirk´s hand and got up in order to end the contact.

Unfortunately though, Newkirk didn't back up as expected and they somehow ended up nose to nose, standing merely a couple of inches apart. Hogan almost felt Newkirk´s breath catch in his throat by its absence on his skin.

There was a flicker of apprehension in his eyes, Hogan couldn't miss it. Still, he didn´t back up, but just kept glaring at him, trying not to let it show.

Hogan couldn't help but smile slightly even if it lacked all traces of actual mirth. As they stared at each other, Hogan wondered if his corporal was debating the same thing as him. He wasn't that much taller than him, but definitely broader and stronger; superior to him in more than one way. Definitely able to just shove him out the door…or…

He sighed distractedly.

He had already messed everything up so badly between them. What was one more drunken lapse of judgment? If Newkirk was smart he would be planning the quickest route through his office door by now, what with the expression on Hogan's face being unmistakable.

Yet he was still standing right here; close enough to grab him with one rash twitch of his muscles, to pull him towards him before he could even think to fight.

Before he could think better of it, Hogan reached up and absentmindedly traced the side of Newkirk´s face with his knuckles.

"Really, what are you thinking?", he smiled glumly: "Coming in here like it´s just any other night, like you could make me feel better with a few quick tips and reassuring words. It´s not some mission that´s got me drinking, you know?"

Newkirk swallowed nervously as he stared up at him. Why? Why the hell was he just standing there? Didn't he realize…?

"No.", Hogan whispered, shaking his head: "I´m not okay, I never will be. And nothing you say will help,… nothing you say…", he trailed off.

The problem was, he knew what exactly would make it okay. But he couldn't have that, could he now? Well, technically he could have it, but it would be worth nothing if he stole it just because he could.

Newkirk bit his lip then, clearly too caught up in his own thoughts to guess Hogan´s. Then he took one deep breath, moved to the side slightly, almost casually breaking their contact. He lightly grabbed Hogan´s elbow, supporting him:

"Sir, that's the whiskey talking… Come on, lie down for a bit and you´ll be right as rain come mornin´."

He pulled him gently, yet carefully avoiding eye contact. Hogan couldn't help but chuckle as he took a step forward and swayed slightly. He grabbed Newkirk´s shoulder, leaning on it heavily. His fingers dug into the other man´s collarbone as he nodded to himself: "It can´t get worse, right?", he murmured.

"I don't see how.", Newkirk replied, clearly relieved that Hogan finally seemed to concur.

Truth was though, it could get worse. He knew it - just as he knew he didn't have the willpower to fight it any more.

It was like his already whiskey-dazed brain had a blackout for a moment then. Before he could stop himself, before he could debate whether he even wanted to stop himself, he was pulling Newkirk around, kissing him fervently.

The other man gasped in surprise at the sudden attack and began to pull back, but Hogan grabbed the back of his neck and kept his head firmly in place. His lips moved their counterpart, trying to get them to respond.

He groaned in irritation when hands on his chest harshly pushed him away. Newkirk´s eyes were blazing as he took two large steps away from the desk, towards the bunk.

"Bloody ´ell, colonel, you´re drunk out of your mind!", he snapped, a little panicky under his anger.

"If only.", Hogan chuckled, still not feeling any actual amusement when faced with the irony of their situation. Newkirk wanted to help him, yes, but not in the only way he possibly could.

He followed, taking a step towards where Newkirk was standing while the corporal backed up further until the back of his legs unexpectedly hit the frame of Hogan´s lower bunk.

Newkirk jumped in surprise and looked down for a second before his eyes flicked from Hogan to the door.

"Easy now, mate…", he said quietly, instinctively raising his hands in a placating gesture. He grew pale when he didn't receive an answer. "Colonel Hogan?"

Maybe he was just startled by the entirely unfamiliar expression now crossing his superior´s face. Maybe he used his title in order to remind him of the proper nature of their relationship. Maybe.

It didn't matter. He wasn't an officer now. He was dead drunk and desperate.

With one swift movement, he shoved the Englishman backwards and pinned down his back on the thin mattress.

* * *

Newkirk gasped as the air was forced out of his lungs, then again as he realized Hogan was practically kneeling over him, his legs effectively restraining any real movement on his side.

His heart jumped in his chest as he stared into Hogan´s bloodshot eyes.

_Bloody hell, that's what you get for trying to do the right thing…Calm down, Peter, he´s not in his right mind right now. He doesn't mean to do this…_

Well, for not wanting it, Hogan sure put a lot of effort into it. Newkirk pushed against Hogan´s viselike grip on his wrists but found the man was a lot stronger than he should be in his condition.

"Colonel!", he snapped desperately, as loud as he could without risking someone waking up and walking in on the scene: "Snap out of it, would ya? This isn't…"

"There´s nothing to snap out of, Peter.", Hogan murmured, his mouth a mere inch from Newkirk´s: "This is how I feel."

With that, he kissed him again, with much more vigor than before, prying his mouth open in the process. Newkirk felt his head spin as his colonel plundered his mouth, heat radiating in waves from the other man´s body. No matter how much he tried to break free it was no use. Unless he wanted to risk seriously hurting the Colonel, he couldn't break free. And talking sense into the man seemed just as pointless at this point.

He could taste alcohol in his mouth and shuddered inwardly. When had it all gone out of hand…?

Hogan eventually let go of one of his wrists, and Newkirk was about to sigh in relief when the colonel´s hand wandered further down his body. An all too familiar sensation made him gasp and clamp a hand over his mouth.

_Bloody hell_, he thought, while Hogan´s hand deftly traced the outline of his chest and ribcage, _he´s serious_.

Hogan reached up to pull his hand from his mouth almost gingerly compared to the bruising grip on Newkirk´s other wrist. He let it go to caress his jaw and throat, his lips replacing the hand on his mouth.

It certainly didn't look like he had any intention of stopping anytime soon; in fact, after a while his hand began to wander even lower while he kept on kissing him senseless. With that notion, Newkirk´s embarrassment and perplexity turned into a sudden fear he hadn't felt before. It took hold of his intestines and clamped down on his limbs, entangling its icy vines with the fire caused by Hogan´s mouth and hands.

He had felt fear when Richter had assaulted him earlier, whether he liked to admit it or not.

But it wasn´t like what he felt now.

He didn't believe Hogan would hurt him, not even as far gone as he was right now.

No, the fear that slammed into him came from the simple notion that he had stopped struggling at some point and not even noticed. That instead of feeling revulsion as in Richter's case, he actually found himself leaning into the hands caressing him, his eyes rolling back in his head from the heat of the lips on his skin.

That he liked it. Wanted it.

"No.", he whispered horrified, his voice breaking as he felt tears gather in the corners of his eyes.

Where shouts and force hadn't been able to stop Hogan that little, barely audible syllable did. He stopped what he was doing and looked into Newkirk´s face, clearly alarmed by the tone.

Newkirk was aware that his eyes were wide and glassy with moisture, that his lips were shaking, but he could do nothing to contain or explain his behavior. The shock, the sudden revelation about himself sat too deep; it paralyzed him.

So he just lay there as Hogan suddenly sat up, still straddling him, an expression of utter terror dawning on his face.

"God…", he murmured, grabbing the side of his head and blinking rapidly: "I…I…"

Newkirk had never seen anyone sober up so quickly. He wanted to say something to console his CO, to let him know that the terror in his voice didn't stem from fear of Hogan, he wanted to keep him from spiraling into another episode of guilt, but he just couldn´t seem to find the words.

He barely realized it when Hogan climbed off of him, backing away from the bunk, one hand clamped over his own mouth. Barely heard his stammering over the pounding of his heart.

"Newkirk…", Hogan started, shaking his head, clearly horrified with himself: "I´m so…I would never have…I…"

Newkirk knew he should tell Hogan that he knew that he wouldn't have forced himself on him any further, but he couldn't, not without admitting that Hogan had only ever gotten this far because he´d let him.

He got up and ran for the door without looking back. It was wrong but he just couldn't help it. He didn't look back, headed straight for the tunnels to find a dark corner to hide in.

Then he just cowered there, his head on his knees, hoping that dawn would never come.

* * *

oh my poor babies, i almost feel bad for them. almost :-)

Pff, that was a long one. I just can´t make the slashy ones short and crisp it seems.

Well, I guess it fits with the rest of the story. I only took me 15 chapters to get Newkirk to realize he might have feelings for Hogan, now the real story can start. By chapter 64 we should see their first date.

I´m just kidding…

Hope you enjoyed the chapter,

And sorry to those who like Kinch. I do too, I just needed someone to be the bad guy for now and I figured since he is very close to Hogan in the series and he relies on him a lot, it would hit him hardest.

I suppose he might have reacted like that in "real life" if you wanna call it that, the notion that he is very religious is somehow stuck in my head (don't know if I just read that somewhere or if it's a fact), and i know sexuality and religion collide sometimes.

So yeah, Hogan is losing it, Newkirk is losing it, now we need to rely on Richter to move the plot along :-9

hope you liked it!


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13. Wow I hadn't planned for this to be so long. Thank you guys for hanging in there with me.

One thing in response to a review I got recently, saying it would be illogical for Newkirk to suddenly be gay. I appreciate the detailed explanation and I suppose that yes, his feelings might be due to the stressful situation and such. Still, they are there for him to deal with them. Also, I would like to point out that this is a piece of fiction therefore it will never be a hundred percent accurate. If I were aiming for that I couldn't have made Hogan (being the ladies man that he is) suddenly realize that he likes men (or one man) either and there would be no story. So, bear with me. I´m really trying to depict the guys´ feelings as authentic and gradual as I , I have heard of people who suddenly realized they were gay after meeting someone special. Now, I might be wrong there, having no personal experience, but I like to think that love isn't just about physical attraction.

Puh, that was long. Sorry to those who just wanted to read the story. No more delays, promise:

* * *

_Better to be struck by the hand that we don't want to hold than to endure its caress._

-Maria von Ebner-Eschenbach

The next morning Newkirk awoke to feet trampling on the floor above him.

He blinked, not knowing where he was at first.

Then it all came rushing back: The tunnels, Hogan, his realization. And just how badly he had messed up this time.

He groaned, hitting his own forehead in frustration. For days and days he had tried to get Hogan to open up to him now, to try and get him out of his self imposed shell. And then he had let it all go to hell.

Granted, he´d had pretty good reason to freak out; one didn't realize one might like men every day. Still now, he wasn't sure what to think of his unexpected reaction. He had been trying so hard these past weeks to come to terms with Hogan´s feelings, to help him, that he had rarely taken the time to take a good look at himself.

Therefore the realization had pretty much hit him in the back. And hard.

But how should he have anticipated that?

He hadn't felt anything of the kind when Hogan had kissed him in the Gestapo cellar, and he had felt disgusted at feeling Richter kiss him.

But that was different. The first time, there had been no room for anything but fear and pain. And why he hadn't enjoyed being mauled by a Nazi officer threatening to kill him in the same breath was also self explanatory.

So had something changed now or had it always been there and he had just not realized it? Or could it simply be a physical reaction? After all, they were all pretty deprived in a way…

It was possible. Yet he couldn't help but think of the time he had lain on his bunk thinking about the way Hogan's eyes had practically melted when he told him he loved him. He had pushed it away then, but maybe he shouldn't have. Maybe there was more to it.

Newkirk rubbed his eyes in frustration, knowing he wouldn't be able to make sense of it right at that moment. He had to think, to talk to Hogan again no matter how embarrassing that would turn out to be.

Because if there was one thing he knew for certain, it was that he had overreacted last night. Badly so.

And thanks to that, Hogan was probably worse than the first day he got out of the cooler now, hating himself for losing it like that. And it was his fault.

Newkirk hadn't meant to run like that, to leave him in doubt…

It was just so confusing. Even now.

Absentmindedly, he let the tips of his fingers touch his lips.

He could still feel, still taste…

Newkirk had a hard time shaking the sensation. He desperately wished for some more time to think, but he knew the raucous above him meant it was time for roll call.

So he made himself get up and get to the barracks, ignoring the others´ confused looks and following them outside.

"Newkirk, are you alright?", Carter caught up to him, grabbing his shoulder: "You look awful."

Newkirk didn't need to see his reflection to know that there were likely deep shadows under his eyes and that he had yet to shave and straighten out his crumpled uniform.

"I´m fine.", he murmured and brushed the other man off, not sure if he had the energy to hold a grudge against Carter anymore.

They stood in formation, the spot next to Newkirk empty. Colonel Hogan wasn't there. Newkirk shot a questioning look at Carter who just shrugged.

Schultz noticed, too, and was about to have a coronary when Hogan suddenly appeared, just in time before Klink showed up. Despite his crush cap being pulled over his face, it was evident that the colonel looked even worse than him. He must have a killer hangover, too.

Instantly, Newkirk felt a sharp stab of guilt at seeing him like that.

God, he had only wanted to help, but somehow he´d managed to tear Hogan down even more. He had to tell him that he wasn't mad, that he hadn't been scared of him before, just of himself…

But Hogan didn't look at Newkirk and part of him was actually thankful for it. He wouldn't have known how to say what he had to, where to start…

So, he reluctantly turned his attention back to more pressing matters for now.

Richter was standing next to Klink with his hands crossed behind his broad back.

His eyes seemed to smile darkly as they moved over Newkirk and the corporal made sure that all of his corresponding feelings were written plainly on his face. Richter just chuckled tonelessly, clearly not impressed by his death glare and started getting the trucks to the factory ready.

Newkirk left the others without sparing them a backward glance.

He didn't have the energy to deal with Carter´s issues or Kinch´s condescendence at the moment, and not enough time to really talk to Hogan.

It would have to wait. He had to focus now to make sure he didn't ruin what he had accomplished so far in keeping them safe.

No matter what, they were still a family. To him anyway.

This time he didn't waste any time slipping into the office, knowing that Richter would come in soon anyways. Hastily he went through pile after pile, suppressing a relieved sigh when he finally found the right blueprints.

With no way to copy them in the short amount of time he had, he decided to just risk it and slid them into the back of his pants, so that they were safely jammed between his back and belt, barely concealed by his clothes.

It wasn't perfect, but it had to be enough.

Then he hastily began putting the files back in order so it wouldn't be obvious at once which ones were missing. He had just enough time to snap the last folder shut when the door creaked behind him.

This time he turned around calmly, meeting Richter´s gaze coldly.

"Thought I´d find you here.", the man grinned, confidently pushing his blonde hair out of his face: "To tell the truth I´ve been looking forward to this little date of ours. I was so hoping you wouldn't disappoint me."

"If this is a date then I'd prefer one with a firing squad. At least that would be over sooner.", Newkirk scowled at him openly. He knew he would have to give up his attitude pretty soon if he wanted to keep Richter happy; it just was so damn hard.

"Then why are you here?", Richter asked, one eyebrow raised playfully. That mocking tone of his didn´t exactly make it any easier for Newkirk to calm down.

"You know bloody well why.", he replied darkly, fists clenched at his sides.

Richter nodded slowly, savoring the moment: "Ah, of course, for the sake of your precious colonel. That was a rather sweet scene yesterday night, I can see why you wouldn´t want to miss that."

Newkirk cursed silently.

Of course he hadn't missed it when Hogan had reached out for him.

Richter stepped up to him, curling one gloved hand around the side of his neck, just below the ear. It took an enormous amount of effort to stay still.

At the same time he couldn't keep a mental picture of the night before from slipping across his mind.

Hogan had touched him just like that before he´d kissed him, except there had been deep longing and affection in his eyes, not predatory greed like he saw it now. Except, he hadn't really wanted to move away, except, it hadn't made his skin crawl to feel that hand…

He squeezed his eyes shut as Richter pulled his face up and pressed dry lips to his in a possessive manner. He thought of Hogan again, and for a moment it calmed him down to imagine he was with his CO instead of Richter –then it freaked him out some more.

He pulled away harshly, itching to wipe his mouth but not giving in.

"Can we just move along already? I´ve got other plans that don't mix with sexual harassment."

Richter chuckled, but there was no amusement in his eyes: "Still so cheeky. I think you haven't understood your position yet."

Before Newkirk could really brace himself for it, the back of Richter´s hand suddenly collided painfully with his face, leaving an angry red mark on his cheek, splitting his lip open.

The force of the blow had him stumbling into the desk and immediately Richter´s hand was at his throat once more, threatening this time. His eyes were dark, as he pressed the smaller man into the desk´s side.

"You´re going nowhere until I tell you to. You don't talk back to me. You don't fight me. Unless you want to find your colonel and yourself taking a dirt nap. Understood?"

"Perfectly.", Newkirk spat, staring the other down with all the hatred he could muster. He was too angry to leave room for fear and he was glad for it.

It was better this way, to not have to put up with Richter´s polite and gentle mask any longer. Considering all things he much preferred being punched by the man than putting up with his false caress.

Richter kissed him again, brutally parting his lips this time, his hand never releasing Newkirk´s neck.

He had never thought a kiss could feel so much like an assault; that it could actually hurt. His fingers clenched tightly around the edge of the desk behind him to give them no excuse to strike out.

The Englishmen soon gave up trying not to think of more pleasant things. He could freak out later; right now all he wanted was to forget who was kissing him.

Again, his thoughts were occupied with last night, of how different it felt being touched by Richter instead of Hogan. With the way the light touch of fingertips on his cheek had felt like a tiny shock of electricity…

He hadn't been scared then, not like this anyway.

But with every second that man forced himself on him like this, he became surer of that.

Yes, he would talk to Hogan, as soon as he got back, as soon as…

Finally, Richter pulled away, grinning victoriously: "That's much better. Don't you like it better, too, when we get along?"

Newkirk didn't even bother answering that.

His grip around the desk tightened as he looked up at the other man coolly, detachedly. With his mind still somewhat occupied with thoughts of Hogan, it wasn't hard to keep his calm.

Richter couldn´t touch him, not truly, not where it mattered.

The German captain looked angry at his passivity for a moment; he obviously had enjoyed his defiance no matter what he claimed. After a moment though, he regained his composure and Newkirk felt his stomach knotting in apprehension at the look he received.

"That's okay, we don't have to talk.", he said, deceivingly light in his tone:

"Get on your knees."

Newkirk just stared at him like he hadn't heard him correctly. He couldn't be serious…! When Richter didn't flinch though, it became obvious that he was indeed dead serious.

"Get bent.", he hissed, forgetting about wanting to play it cool.

"Alright, if you would prefer that, corporal.", Richter grinned slyly, his long fingers hooking into the loops of Newkirk´s belt and pulling him flush against his body in a harsh movement.

Newkirk´s hands flew up before he could stop himself, keeping the man at a distance that was still too short. It took all of his self control to not do something stupid, like kick the bastard where it would really hurt, or simply panic –or both.

"No.", he made himself say as calmly and non-aggressive as possible: "Blimey, I really wouldn´t."

"I didn´t think you would. Of course that is not for you to decide either.", Richter smiled: "But I´ll give you some time to get used to the idea. After all… we aren't in a rush, are we?"

_If you knew,_ Newkirk thought spitefully, careful to not show too much of his emotions on his face. Soon Richter would be blown to pieces along with this hell hole. For him personally, it really couldn't be soon enough.

Throughout all of this Newkirk was acutely aware of not only the unsettling proximity of the other man, but more so of the papers that were still stashed into his belt.

Under no circumstances could he risk Richter discovering them, which he might if Newkirk kept refusing him and he decided to just _make_ him. Apart from the humiliation that being stripped against his will would certainly bring, it would mean a death sentence on top of it.

And that really was more than anyone should have to put up with for one day.

So, even though everything in his body rebelled against it, he decided to put up with the lesser evil for now, for all of their sakes.

Reluctantly, he sunk to his knees in front of Richter. The taller man smiled at him triumphantly, possessively cupping his chin in his large hand. His fingers lightly stroked the spot they´d bruised not two minutes ago in a gesture of mock tenderness.

"I thought you would come around to my way of thinking.", he smiled, his fingers tightening as he undid his belt with his free hand.

* * *

Andrew Carter paced restlessly in front of barracks two, his eyes flickering to the main gate for the thirstiest time in as many minutes. Finally, the truck with the factory workers appeared on the road, entering the camp.

Nervously he watched his fellow prisoners get out of the vehicle, his eyes glued on one blue uniform in their midst. He was about to run over to Newkirk, but hesitated when he saw the look on his friend´s face.

Newkirk seemed paler than even this morning and Andrew felt a new pang of guilt at seeing him like that.

His eyes flickered over to where Colonel Hogan was standing near the Kommandantur. He fully expected him to walk up to Newkirk as he usually did, and pull him aside to talk about the mission, but the CO didn't move. He just stood against the wall, his eyes lingering on the unsuspecting Englander with an expression that radiated unmasked pain and guilt.

Carter bit his lip, ruefully.

He had never seen his superior in such a state, and it was all because the men had been unable to deal with his confession to Hochstetter. He himself had needed some time to come to terms with this sudden change of his world view but in the end it was nothing he wanted to see Hogan break over.

He had been meaning to talk to someone about that for a while now, but LeBeau still hadn't properly digested the news, and Kinch was obviously very upset by it. So, he figured it would be best to talk to Newkirk since his friend had always stood up for Hogan from the start.

He would understand, and maybe he would help him understand too, help him in telling Hogan that he still respected him somehow.

Gathering all the courage he had, he started jogging towards the Englishman, calling his name from a distance.

* * *

Urg, I´m kinda starting to think there is too much of this coercion stuff in here, it´s starting to make _my_ skin crawl now…but fret not, there will be an actual plot advancement next chapter as indicated by the very short part Carter had at the end. I really do love Carter on the show, I wish I could build in his character some more, but I don't want to burden him with these nasty grown up problems lol.

Anyway, thanks for reading this until here and until next week!


	14. Chapter 14

hey, so i managed to hurry a bit this time. hope i can keep that up. my free time is kind of running out this month, then it´s back to college...

like i promised there is some plot and some drama :-)

please R&R, maybe i´ll reach the 40 mark this time, thanks!

* * *

Newkirk resisted the urge to wipe his mouth with the back of his hand for the umpteenth time since he had left the factory. Thinking of Richter made his skin crawl and he forced himself to focus on what he needed to do next.

He gazed over to where Hogan was standing, only to have the CO turn away immediately.

Newkirk sighed. Right, Hogan was probably far from done with beating himself up over last night. Well, he could help with that. Even now, he hadn't figured out what to say, what to admit yet…but he knew he couldn't let this go on.

He was about to go after him when a hand grabbed his arm. Unable to reign in his emotions, he flinched at the unexpected contact, spinning around so quickly that Carter yelped in surprise.

They stared at each other for a brief moment of recollection, then Newkirk made a point of letting his expression return to polite but distant.

"What is it, Carter?", he asked impatiently, not wanting to postpone his much needed talk with Hogan any longer.

"It´s about…you know…", Carter mumbled and Newkirk couldn't help but notice his cheeks turning red in embarrassment: "I thought we could…talk about that…"

Newkirk practically felt the frown building on his face. He crossed his arms defiantly. There was no question he would risk his life for Carter and the others but he was done taking bullshit from them nonetheless.

"Honestly, Carter, I think you and the others ´ave done enough talking for a lifetime on the matter. Now if you´ll let go of me arm, I ´ave to…"

"I´m sorry.", Carter suddenly burst out, stopping his friend dead in his tracks: "I…was shocked I guess…with all of it being so…but I didn't realize it would destroy the colonel like that. I want to make it right. Please?"

Newkirk just shot him a puzzled look, completely taken aback by that admission. He bit his lip while he mustered Carter as if trying to determine whether he really meant it. Then he nodded, smiling just a bit.

"That´s awfully decent of you, mate.", he finally said, squeezing the younger man´s arm briefly: "He´ll be glad to hear that someone around here still has his back."

They walked over to one of the benches by the barracks wall and sat down. Carter was starring at his hands, crossed in his lap, fidgeting nervously.

"S´ alright, Andrew.", Newkirk eventually took pity on him: "It was a shock to all of us. But like I said, it doesn't change who ´e is."

Carter nodded slowly, cheeks still burning: "I suppose. Yes. I mean, I know…"

Then, his head snapped up, rushing the words that came out of his mouth like he wanted to make sure he couldn't stop himself anymore: "And also…I just really wanted to say that I'm sorry. For, for letting you think I would give up our friendship over something like that. I wouldn't, and I wanted to tell you… so you know…"

"I'm really glad you did, Andrew.", Newkirk smiled, glad to have at least one of his friends back: "And you really should tell the gov´nor, too, he could need something to cheer him up right now."

Carter nodded hesitantly, as though the idea scared him.

"I… could come with you when you talk to him.", he suggested meekly.

Thinking of their last conversation and the course it had taken, Newkirk knew he had to pull the emergency brake on that one.

"Er, I don't think that would be good, mate. The colonel and I have some issues to talk about that you don't need to worry about."

For a moment he was worried that Carter would take his refusal the wrong way, but the sergeant only eyed him thoughtfully, before asking rather abruptly:

"Is it about him being…well, liking you?"

Now it was Newkirk´s turn to become flustered and awkward. How was he supposed to give an accurate answer to that and still keep the explanation g-rated for both of their sakes?

"In a way.", he finally replied vaguely: "It´s complicated…"

Carter nodded sympathetically, patting Newkirk´s arm rather awkwardly:

"You can tell me if you want, I mean, I probably won´t be able to give you any good advise if you want to know about how that works, like with …men and stuff, since you know I don't usually even get far with girls…then of course there is the war going on, so who knows what I would be…"

"Carter, just quit it.", Newkirk interrupted him in exasperation, trying to keep from smirking: "Me head is starting to ache even worse. What is it you want to know?"

Even talking about a touchy subject like that, it was easy to fall back into their usual way of talking to each other, to pretend Carter annoyed him with his blabbering, while he was actually the first person to make him feel a little less queasy that day.

Carter didn't seem quite as relaxed though:

"How come you support Hogan and stand up for him when it obviously stresses you out that he is… into you?"

The question took him by surprise, and he could feel himself getting a little flustered, too, now. He´d never have thought he´d have a conversation like this…and with Carter of all people. But then, he realized, if he had been about to dissect his chaotic feelings in front of the person who had caused them, he should jolly well be able to tell someone uninvolved.

Nervously he wrung his hands, wiping them on his blue pants briefly. Saying it out loud would change everything. He couldn't take it back, or deny it, or try to ignore it.

And that scared him just as badly as it had in those first moments when he had reacted to Hogan´s kiss. But maybe it was just what he needed. To cross that bridge and make sure he couldn't turn back. No matter the outcome…

"I think I'm mostly stressed out because…I´m not nearly as stressed out about it as I thought I would be…" , he tried to phrase it carefully.

He didn't look up while saying it, perfectly able to feel Carter´s gaze pinned to him the way he was. It took the young sergeant a long moment to grasp what Newkirk was implying. Then…

"Oh."

Then Carter did that annoying thing again where he repeated that same word about five times in different tones of voice. Fortunately, he didn't freak out like the last time he´d done that. Well, not as much. He did look kind of pale.

" mean you think you´re…?"

"I don't know, Carter. I don't know anything anymore.", he sighed, rubbing his temples.

There was an awkward silence and he could still feel those eyes glued to his neck which didn't make it any easier for him to concentrate on a more defined answer.

"You changin´ your mind now?", Newkirk eventually asked, almost bitterly.

His eyes still pinned to the ground between his boots, Newkirk fought to keep his voice even as he spoke. Yet he was unable to convince either of them that he was unaffected by the possibility of it.

Fear. Uncertainty. Like he hadn't had enough of that for one day.

To his relief, Carter almost immediately shook his head furiously:

"No, of course not! I just…never thought…but I really wouldn´t care any more than with Hogan… as long as you don't come on to me."

The last part had Newkirk look up in unmasked surprise.

Carter´s earnest expression mingled with a hint of true apprehension was beyond comical. For the first time in what seemed like forever, Newkirk felt the edges of his mouth drawn upwards. He started laughing madly, unable to help himself.

"Trust me, Andrew, that is one thing you don't have to worry about.", he clasped his friend´s shoulder while wiping the water out of his eyes.

"Hey, now wait a minute! What is that supposed to mean?", Carter protested full of flustered indignation, igniting a new flash of laughter from the Englander.

With that tiny bit of normalcy, of relief, fresh air filled his lungs, and he stared into the warm evening sun, finally able to breathe a little easier again.

Then he just sat there and allowed himself to take a little break before his next endeavor and while waiting for Carter to gather his courage to talk to Hogan.

His eyes caught the red leaves that fall was ripping from the trees around the camp and whirling above their heads, quietly humming to himself.

_*Right now I feel - just like a leaf on a breeze  
Who knows where it's blowin'  
Who knows where it's goin'  
I find myself somewhere I - I never thought I'd be  
Going round in circles  
Thinking about you and me  
How do I expalin it when I don't know what to say  
What do I do now - so much has changed_

Nothing I have ever known - has made me feel this way*

* * *

Hogan was more than a little perplexed when Carter left his office.

Not an hour ago he had been sitting by himself, sulking, basically just waiting for the evening roll call to come so he could start drinking again.

The frightened look in Newkirk´s eyes the night before just wouldn't leave him alone. He wanted to hit himself for losing control, for causing such an expression. No matter how broken inside he was, he had never wanted to tear anyone down with him.

Especially not _him_.

This morning at roll call he hadn't been able to even look at him, too afraid to see hostility, anger…or worse, fear, in those green eyes he loved so much.

He had pretty much kept to himself after the factory workers were gone, working over Kinch´s transfer papers and eventually signing them like he would with his own suicide note. That notion had struck him as mildly funny, he remembered, but not for long enough to not make him realize how he´d come to think of such a comparison in the first place.

Suicide had never been an option for him, were it due to the lengthy speeches of their town´s priest his mother had made him sit through as a child, or mere pride. Even now, after all that had happened, he wouldn't let anyone find him like that, his cold body proof that they had won over him.

Still, he wanted to hurt himself, for disrupting their family dynamics, for hurting Newkirk; and he wanted to hurt Richter and Hochstetter for pushing him to the edge in the first place.

So when Carter had come in he was fully prepared to just throw the man out with a couple of harsh words and go back to his brooding.

Now, after he had left, he still couldn't believe what had happened.

It seemed unreal, unnatural to expect something good being thrown his way after all the dread of these past weeks. But nonetheless, Carter had stood right there by the door, nervous but clearly honest, and told him how sorry he was for letting him down. For making him feel abandoned.

At first he had thought it a cruel joke, even knowing that Carter would never do such a thing. Then slowly, he had let himself believe it, accept Carter´s words, make up with him.

Afterwards, he just sat behind his desk, still somewhat stunned, almost scared to feel relieved or happy, in case it was just a dream or something, while Carter said something about wanting to talk to LeBeau next before practically skipping out of the office.

Shortly after, the door creaked and he didn't have to look up to know who was standing there. Actually looking up at him seemed much harder in comparison.

* * *

Newkirk gripped the door´s frame tighter when Hogan lifted his face, meeting his gaze with eyes so full of hurt they made him cringe. His face was partly averted, still looking after Carter, but one eye was enough to notice that.

Carter had just left almost cheerfully; happy to get the weight off his chest he had gone off to find LeBeau down in the tunnels.

Which left Newkirk with no excuse to not get his troubles off his chest as well.

One look at Hogan though was enough to show him that the man wouldn´t make it easy for him. After the first contact, he had averted his eyes quickly, pinning them to the desk in front of him; even now, he still wouldn't meet his eyes.

Newkirk sighed, knowing that working through both of their issues by himself wouldn't be easy _or _fun. Maybe he had to try and get Hogan to talk about a subject he was confident with first.

"Gov´nor…", he started, trying to keep his voice light: "I wanted to let you know that I have the blueprints now."

He stepped up to the desk and pulled out the plans, holding them up. Not like Hogan saw it. Slightly frustrated he let them fall onto the table top.

"I´m guessin´ we´ll go in tonight?", he refused to let up. If Hogan could talk to Carter he could talk to Newkirk as well.

Hogan merely nodded, his hand reaching for the plan out of habit. Before he could unfold it, Newkirk´s hand on his wrist stopped him.

"Don't do this, please.", the corporal asked almost desperately: "Not again."

If Hogan retreated into that shell of his again, he didn't know if he could pull him out a second time. A scary thought.

And not too farfetched as it seemed, he thought, when Hogan pulled his arm away hastily, almost fearfully. The colonel buried his face in his hands for a moment, taking a deep breath. Then he said, with a voice that barely shook for Newkirk to hear, completely ignoring what the other had said before:

"I…I can´t begin to tell you how much I hate myself… for what I did…was about to…I know it isn't worth much, but I wanted to tell you before I leave…"

He sounded so tormented at that that Newkirk almost forgot to protest the actual content of the sentence. He wasn't going to let Hogan take the blame for something that hadn't even happened on top of everything else.

"Will you quit saying that?", he all but snapped, bending forward slightly. Hogan pulled away, still looking anywhere but at him: "You´re not going anywhere! And you haven't done a ruddy thing!"

With his sudden frustration as a trigger, it was much easier to find an opening to the conversation he was aiming for than expected.

"Blimey, I´m not mad about yesterday.", he asserted his CO: "You just… caught me off guard, is all. No permanent damage…"

"Don't try to downplay this for my sake, I don't deserve it.", Hogan cut him off angrily, before sounding guilt stricken once more: "And I _saw _it…the look in your eyes…"

Newkirk sighed silently. Now, he couldn't deny that. But maybe he could somehow explain to Hogan what the real reason behind it was. Get him to cheer up at least a tiny bit.

"Well, if you would look at me _now_ you would know how I feel, unless that's too much to ask for?", he smirked crookedly, deliberately challenging him a bit and hoping it would work.

And indeed, Hogan finally looked at him.

What Newkirk hadn't expected was for his eyes to widen in horror instead of relief.

_Bloody hell, what´s happening…?,_ he thought panicky.

Hogan stared at him with an expression that he couldn't understand until the colonel reached up to touch his cheek, only to pull his hand back harshly just inches before actually touching skin.

"Oh, God, did I…I…"

He got out of his chair, swaying as he did so. His eyes were still glued to the side of Newkirk´s face.

Only then did Newkirk finally understand what was going on. Hogan hadn't looked at that side of his face before; his face that was surely already showing quite the bruise where Richter had backhanded him earlier.

He hadn't thought of it until now, having pushed that unpleasant memory aside along with the even more unpleasant ones.

But now Hogan somehow thought he was responsible and just not remembering because he had been drunk out of his mind.

"Oh, no!", Newkirk burst out hastily, his hands flying up automatically: "No, that wasn't you. Don't be ridiculous!"

Hogan eyed him darkly, clearly not believing him: "So what, you fell on your face, is that it?", he scoffed mirthlessly, with traces of self hatred already seeping through.

His eyes wandered to the drawer where he kept his hand gun. Coincidence or not, it was enough to have Newkirk shiver in horror this time.

"Bollocks!", he cried hastily: "Richter did that, not you, alright? So, calm down and stop blaming yourself for everything already!"

His words mercifully did succeed in diverting Hogan´s attention.

At the same time though, they pulled it into a direction that Newkirk hadn't planned to go. Hogan´s eyes darkened further if that was even possible, his whole posture straightening out and becoming menacing out of nowhere; the way he acted towards enemies on missions. It was enough to divert him from his self-accusations and to make Newkirk flinch.

"Richter did that to you?", he asked in a voice that couldn't have been more deadly: "When? What else did he do?"

"Nothing.", Newkirk swore hastily, trying to placate his increasingly unstable CO.

_´Oh, you´re just so thick these days, aren't you, Peter? Now look at what you´ve done!´_

"Newkirk." Hogan´s fingers were twitching at his sides. He didn't look like he was taking the time to breathe –or think. "Tell me! Did he beat you anywhere else, did he…?

"Never mind!", Newkirk cut him off rather abruptly, unable to endure questions about that part of his day: "He caught me in the office but doesn't know I have the plans. No need to worry."

He hoped to God that Hogan wouldn't notice the dread he felt underneath the surface. So he automatically back paddled, hoping to save what was left of his dignity and Hogan´s chance at surviving the day: "I'm dealing with it, so…"

"Like hell you are!", Hogan growled, suddenly seething with rage. Apparently he hadn't missed Newkirk´s expression.

"I´ll kill that son of a bitch!"

And with that he had stormed out of the office, leaving behind reason along with Newkirk and his unspoken confession.

* * *

Alright, there is some friendly bonding for those of us who are into happy endings. I do try to squeeze in some shreds of light here and there in my stories. :-)

I figured Carter would be the most likely to come around, then maybe LeBeau but I still have some chapters left…If it seemed a little abrupt, that´s because there hasn't been anything from the other guys´ point of view so far, meaning Carter had these thoughts for a while during the chapters when Hogan was drowning in himself.

-Sorry for the really, really sappy song text in the middle there. I just love that song by Bryan Adams and it does reflect Newkirk´s state of mind (while being completely out of place in a drama about a POW camp). Oh, well, bear with me. I need some romance once in a while.

-Looks like Richter is in for some serious trouble there. Or maybe Hogan is…

Well, the former really has it coming, don't you think?


	15. Chapter 15

Louis LeBeau didn't look like he was particularly keen on continuation his current conversation with Andrew Carter.

Or, to be more precise, to keep paying attention to Carter´s monologue.

The young sergeant had come running into the tunnels not five minutes ago, the first smile in days on his creaseless face. Without much of an introduction, he had started rambling about Colonel Hogan and Newkirk, the very reasons LeBeau was down here hiding behind sowing work in the first place.

Still, he patiently listened to his friend explain how he had made up with them both, how he felt so much better and how LeBeau really needed to do the same to restore their team dynamics.

The little Frenchman sighed soundlessly, while Carter just continued talking and talking.

The American actually seemed to think that his improvised speech would be all that was needed to make everything right again, like LeBeau had just waited for someone to tell him how to act.

Sometimes he forgot how young Carter actually was, in more than one way.

He briefly debated setting the man straight, telling him that he was fully able to make up his own mind and that he would have talked to Hogan had he wanted to. Truth was, even after almost three weeks had gone by since the incident, he was still reluctant to approach his colonel.

Being French(1), he had always prouded himself in being very open towards people´s different preferences; he had even had a close friend in school that preferred the company of men over girls.

Still, this was different.

Hogan was his colonel, his superior. A role model in a way.

All men in camp looked to him for guidance and they felt safe under his wing.

He had been really reluctant to adjust his set image of Hogan so far, simply because it was one of the pillars stabilizing him during this war. And while he was sure that he would over time, he hadn't exactly planned to talk to Hogan outright.

However, Carter´s speech conveyed one thing very clearly.

Hogan was suffering more than either of them had expected; thinking he had lost his friends and brothers because of their retreat. Now, despite what he personally thought of his CO´s preferences, he wasn't about to take part in his destruction.

"Fine, Andre.", he finally sighed, rubbing his neck: "What do you want me to do?"

"Just let him know you still have his back.", Carter couldn't suppress a smile at seeing LeBeau giving in: "And I know exactly how. Newkirk told me he managed to get the factory´s blueprints. We will probably blow it up tonight."

"I will be there.", LeBeau replied without wavering.

He still wasn't as enthusiastic about everything going back to normal as Carter, but he would have never even thought of missing a mission over anything. His first priority was still la France, and he would fight for it alongside the team just as he always had.

Carter smiled happily at his consent, then a slight frown grew on his face: "What about Kinch?", he asked quietly: "Do you think he…?"

"I don't know, mon ami. We will tell him about the mission. I would be very surprised if he refused to help just because Hogan will be there. Let's go find him now; he is probably on the compound."

They climbed up from the tunnels and made their way to the barrack´s door just in time to hear yelling outside.

They exchanged an alarmed glance, before LeBeau ripped the door open and ran outside, Carter on his heels. Both men stopped in astonishment at the scene that unfolded in front of their disbelieving eyes.

Colonel Hogan was storming towards the Kommandantur, his rage evident even when all they could see was the set of his shoulders and his clenched fists.

He was three feet from Klink´s porch when Newkirk tackled him from behind, forcefully throwing him to the ground and attempting to hold him down with minor success.

Hogan, who had managed to whirl around in mid-fall, struggled to get free angrily. He was yelling at Newkirk while trying to get up but Newkirk straddled him, wrestling him down with surprising determination.

He too was yelling, both of their voices too tangled up for the others to make sense of the words.

"Sacré chat! What are they doing?", LeBeau muttered, edging closer. Carter moved with him, clearly just as perturbed by the event. They had seen Hogan and Newkirk fight before, but it had never gotten physical with the colonel.

He didn't get into fights; he was always the one to break them up. Watching him like this was kind of disturbing, like it was another hint that Hogan was losing it.

Overall, they made the impression of just another pair of prisoners who had gotten in a fist fight. Everyone in camp was used to emotions boiling up from time to time; what they weren't used to were that day´s participants.

Soon the compound was full of prisoners and guards yelling; normally they would have long broken up the fight, but seeing as it concerned the colonel they seemed uncertain as to how to proceed.

It wasn't long before Klink stormed out of his office, Schultz and Richter close behind him.

"What is the meaning of this?", the commandant required, awkwardly pushing his way through the crowd of men. He, too, gasped when he saw what was going on.

"Hogan!", he yelled, as shocked as he was disappointed. Neither man on the ground seemed to have heard him. Newkirk was still busy holding his CO at bay, renewing his efforts when his gaze came across Richter.

"Bloody stop it, will ya?", he snapped angrily at his superior, shocking everyone around even more with his lack of respect: "It´s nothing, I told ya! It´s not worth…!"

He was cut off when Hogan followed his gaze and met Richter's eyes in the crowd. With an enraged roar, he shook off the Englishman, fighting to get up and launch himself at the enemy´s throat. Again, he was tackled from behind, Newkirk dragging him back with choke hold.

Hogan never broke eye contact with the German captain, hatred seeping out of his words as he growled: "You goddamn son of a bitch! You´ll regret this, you hear?"

Lucky for him, everyone was way too shocked to hear Hogan talk like that and be anything but his composed charming self, to notice him shooting daggers at Richter.

For anyone who wasn't in on their prior conversation, it could easily seem like Hogan was talking to Newkirk and the Englander was glad for it. If he got knocked around for the second time in one day, it should at least be worth his trouble.

Finally, the guards seemed to remember what they were paid for and went between them. Two of them restrained a still struggling Hogan while Schultz had considerably less trouble pulling Newkirk out of range.

Klink was finally regaining his composure and stepped up to them with an angry glance: "Would anyone care to tell me what the meaning of this is? Colonel Hogan I have never before seen you act so disgracefully, such a bad example to…"

With growing horror, Newkirk realized that Hogan was far from cooled down and actually just opening his mouth for a reply that would certainly get him into even more trouble.

"It was me.", he lied without thinking.

Klink turned towards him in surprise just like everybody else. Richter merely raised a disbelieving eyebrow, apparently very amused by their little show. Newkirk ignored him as he continued lying to Klink: "Right, colonel. We were arguing and I said something I shouldn't have…about…about his sister."

He wasn't sure if Klink beloved him; he didn't question his story though.

"Well, since you´re so clear on whose fault this was.", he decided angrily: "…I´m sure you won't object to some time to rethink your actions in the cooler, corporal. Three days should be enough."

And with that he hurried back into his office yelling over his shoulder that he wasn't to be disturbed again.

Hogan had finally stopped thrashing against the guards´ hold, but he was obviously still angry. Newkirk let out a quiet sigh of relief upon seeing that he had regained enough sense not to blow their mission and cover over this and let Schultz pull him towards the cooler.

Before he was too far away, he shot a pleading look at Carter who just looked dumbfounded. LeBeau got the message though and quickly went over to Hogan to make sure he didn't endanger them any more than he had. He brusquely wiped some dirt off his face as he entered the cool building with Schultz.

He had done all he could. It was up to the others now.

* * *

Carter watched his CO warily, ready to jump back should he lash out again.

But Hogan seemed to have come down by now; he was standing motionless next to LeBeau while the compound emptied around them and everyone went back about their business.

He wasn't looking at either of them; his gaze was pinned at the back of a blue uniform as it disappeared for what would be at least three days.

Carter thought he looked guilty but couldn't be sure. After all, his aggressiveness was the reason Newkirk was being locked up, so why would he feel bad only now, afterwards? He must have known…

It was all very confusing to him anyway. Not ten minutes ago, Hogan had been perfectly calm when they had talked in his office. Nothing had indicated that he was mad at Newkirk. He´d thought he loved the Englishman, why would he…?

"What happened?", he asked warily: "What did Newkirk say about your sister?"

LeBeau merely shot him an exasperated look while Hogan's gaze was still fixed on something else.

"Nothing, Andre. He didn't say anything about her. He was covering up the real reason."

"Oh."; Carter blinked, slowly catching up: "And what was that?"

"Him.", Hogan suddenly said darkly, his posture tense again and he looked to their right. Carter followed his gaze and his heart fell.

Richter was coming towards them with a bemused smile on his face. As always it was anything but reassuring.

"My, my, colonel.", he chuckled, uncaring that they weren't alone: "Trouble in paradise already? I hope it´s not because of me."

Hogan seemed to have an extremely hard time standing still. His fists were clenched a this sides, but he only growled at Richter´s sarcasm.

"I swear to you, if you ever touch him again…", he started, his voice so deadly that Carter was glad he wasn't in the line of fire here. He had never seen his CO so…well, like that.

Richter didn't seem to notice the threatening stance.

"Oh, so he told you then?", he smirked, now clearly enjoying himself way too much.

"He didn't have to tell me, I'd have to be blind not to see the bruises.", Hogan hissed hatefully.

Something flashed across Richter's eyes at that choice of words and his smile widened for a split second before he took a more relaxed stance.

"I see.", he nodded: "Well, I´ll be sure to comfort him tomorrow when we´re at the factory together."

He saw LeBeau´s hand twitch to grab Hogan's arm, but the colonel restrained himself.

"That's not going to happen.", he ground out.

"And why would you think that?", Richter inquired, arching an eyebrow with mild interest.

"Because we will blow it up tonight."

That statement actually managed to really surprise their enemy for a moment. Carter and LeBeau both froze up at their colonel´s words. Was he insane, telling his plan…? Now they were going to go to the cooler, too, and have no chance to fulfill their mission.

Unexpectedly though, Richter didn't get mad or call for any guards.

Instead he nodded, clearly satisfied: "Oh, so you have made up your mind then. Major Hochstetter will be more than pleased to hear that."

Hogan didn't even flinch at the disguised threat; his voice was cold and calculated now:

"Just tell him to keep a distance if he wants a chance to see it burn."

Richter tilted his head mockingly, before turning towards the Kommandantur: "I´m sure he will find that that is a fair trade as long as he gets to pin it on you, Colonel."

"It´s settled then. Tonight at midnight."

And with that Richter was off, leaving Hogan with four incredulous eyes boring into his back.

"What was that?", LeBeau finally managed to push past his teeth, his eyes still wide.

Hogan didn't seem to notice their reaction to him; he was calm now that he had a goal: "The mission is tonight. I´ll get Newkirk out of the cooler and we´ll go and blow up the factory. Carter, you coming with us?"

All the young sergeant could do was nod. He opened his mouth and shut it again a few times, before his eyes darted to LeBeau helplessly. Hogan was looking at the Frenchman as well, carefully neutral and yet somewhat darkly now: "LeBeau, if you don't…", he started to say, but was interrupted when the little man shook his head harshly.

"What, you think I´m going to let my friends go into battle alone?", he asked, half indignantly, half joking.

Hogan´s eyes lit up ever so slightly at the choice of words and his shoulders relaxed a bit.

"Alright then."; he nodded at his ally, the shadow of a grim smile on his lips.

That, Carter figured was a good opportunity to bring up what was worrying him: "But, sir, I don't understand, why did you warn him?"

"He thinks he´s blackmailing me into doing this so Hochstetter can arrest me for good this time.", he explained nonchalantly: "And I need Hochstetter there so we can end this once and for all."

"So it´s his trap but he will get caught in it?", Carter asked, half smiling at that already.

Hogan nodded grimly: "He and Richer will live to regret what they have done. And maybe a minute or so after that."

* * *

Meanwhile Richter had shooed Klink out of his office, dialing a number on his phone. He waited a moment before asking to speak to Major Hochstetter.

"Major Hochstetter? Hier spricht Kaptain Richter. Es ist alles bereit, Herr Major. Kommen Sie heute um Mitternacht zur Fabrik, dann können Sie Hogan selbst verhaften und erschießen."

He waited for a reply, a triumphant smile spreading across his face, before continuing:

"Natürlich. Kümmern Sie sich um Hogan. Ich werde mich derweil um seinen Unteroffizier Newkirk kümmern. Bis heute Abend, ich kann es kaum erwarten."

* * *

What? They _are_ Germans, you know?

Oh boy, I can practically feel you guys looking daggers at me. There´s no need though, you´ll find out next chapter what those two are planning. That way you´ll be just as surprised as our heroes lol…

-(1) And before I get hate mail, I realize that that thing about the French is a stereotype. Or maybe it is a stereotype about most European countries that the people are…huh, I dunno how to say that: not exactly prudish. I heard a joke once saying that what they call porn in the USA is a dairy commercial in Europe (lol).

So, in conclusion, I don't want to offend anyone from France, I´ve actually lived there for a while and haven't noticed any such difference. But who knows maybe it was different back then…?

Anyways, hope you enjoyed this chapter, from what I can tell right now there are two more to come. One for the action, one for the conclusion.


	16. Chapter 16

**Hey guys! So this is the second to last chapter from what I´ve planned. It´s kinda long, thats why it took so long. **

**Since the story is almost over I would like to ask you again to please review and tell me what you thought about it. You can do it, it wont hurt, I promise! :-)**

**This chapter´s a bit twisted, so I guess I should apologize for that in advance. You´ll see what I mean...**

* * *

The nightly wind blew softly around them, rustling the trees while all else lay peacefully quiet. At least it would seem that way to an innocent observer.

To Hogan, who lay flat in the grass of a hill near the munitions factory, it was merely the calm before the storm.

He set down the binoculars after making sure everything was like they expected, then turned his head to look at the man next to him. Newkirk was on his stomach as well, thoughtfully looking down at their target while smoking a cigarette. If it weren't for the slightest tremble of fingertips, Hogan wouldn't have guessed he was nervous.

"You sure you´re up to this?", he asked quietly, for what seemed like the tenth time already: "Maybe you should just have stayed in the cooler…"

Newkirk shot him a sideway glance that told him what exactly he thought of that: "And miss the party? No way, gov´nor, Richter will get it tonight and I wouldn't miss that for all the solitary in the world."

He grinned, but didn't look at his CO while saying that, as though he feared his eyes would show more than just determination and eagerness.

Hogan frowned but didn't say anything.

He looked at his watch. Five more minutes till Carter would give the sign that the bombs were in place. Five more minutes he got to lie here in the wet grass and feel just as awkward as Newkirk certainly did.

Truth was, now that he had calmed down, he felt horribly ashamed of his undignified behavior earlier. It wasn't that he regretted attacking Richter; he just realized he shouldn't have lost it like that, he shouldn't have fought with Newkirk in front of everyone, he should have listened to his corporal.

That, and he still didn't believe that he was forgiven for his drunken lapse. He just couldn't be; that would be unnatural. So now they were in a weird sort of state where they desperate needed to _talk_, but couldn't because of the circumstances _and _would both rather eat nails.

He sighed loudly and opened his mouth to apologize once more, but was met with an almost exasperated glare as if Newkirk had guessed what he was about to say.

So instead he tried to stick to the code of behavior that the Englander had proposed earlier. Act normal, no more guilt trips, no more raging fits, and then after this night they would talk it all out once and for all.

"So did you bribe Carter to come and talk to me?", he attempted to be funny or maybe even casual, but still didn't seem to be able to get off the one topic.

Newkirk chuckled softly, a sound that went straight under Hogan´s skin: "With what? ´Ardly any man I know would sell out his ideology for a pack o´ cigarettes. Nah, you´re just lucky he didn't have much of one from the beginnin´.

Hogan decided to leave it at that, once again watching out for any suspicious movement down on the factory´s compound.

"You seen Hochstetter or Richter yet?", Newkirk asked.

He shook his head no, frowning when he did so: "They must have some kind of plan. I don't think Hochstetter is going to believe I´ll come alone."

"I think he does, sir,", Newkirk disagreed: "He has seen firsthand ´ow much you´re willing to risk for your men. If he told you to come alone, then he´ll expect you to be alone. Richter is another story though. He has seen enough to know that I would follow you in secret. So he will be on the lookout."

"Another reason for you to stay up here."; Hogan concluded when he saw the man's face darken upon saying Richter's name. He had a feeling there was something more Newkirk wasn't telling him, but there wasn't much he could do about it as stubborn as he could be.

"Not a chance.", Newkirk replied, proving his thoughts unknowingly: "After all you need someone to watch your back."

"LeBeau and Carter are here too."

"Yes, but Carter is busy with the wiring and he needs LeBeau to watch _his_ back so he can concentrate."

Hogan frowned at the perfect logic:

"Yes, but I still don't like the idea. Richter has got it in for you already, you shouldn't…"

Newkirk didn't even let him finish, suddenly looking annoyed at being patronized: "Don't you start with that again! So he hit me in the face. Going after him like that was right stupid, gov´nor. I can ruddy one for the team, you know?"

"I do.", Hogan backed down, even though he wanted to say something else. But he knew that him feeling protective didn't change Newkirk´s courageous nature or his role during missions.

"Really, I do.", he repeated, forcing a smile: "And we all trust and cherish your abilities."

Newkirk wasn't fooled for a second.

"So where is the backup group hiding?", he inquired dryly.

Hogan sighed, unable to hide a lopsided grin: Newkirk simply knew him too well.

"About two miles back in the woods. If we don't meet them in an hour they will come looking for us."

Newkirk nodded, going back to watching the factory. The moonlight reflecting on his profile made it appear unusually severe. His fingers picked at the grass beneath him while the waited. Finally he broke the silence, hesitant:

"Do you know if…?"

He didn't finish but Hogan already knew he was asking about Kinch. He refused to acknowledge the tug at his heart when he was reminded of the likely loss of an old friend, and simply shrugged:

"I don't know, I let LeBeau pick out the men. But I don't think so."

Slowly, Newkirk nodded. He seemed just as saddened as Hogan by that fact, but he hid it better in the long run.

"I´m sure he´ll come around eventually.", he murmured.

Hogan shrugged again, and this time his words were sincere: "You know, the fact that I seem to be back in Carter and LeBeau´s good graces is more than I ever hoped for, so don't worry about it."

He gave a grateful smile to the other man, and after a moment it was returned.

"In an case I was kind of hoping we wouldn't need backup.", he added, gesturing towards the gun on his belt as he pushed himself into an sitting position. It was almost time now.

Still, he took a moment to gaze down at the younger man whose face was scarcely illuminated by the light of the watchtowers. He successfully fought down the urge to extend a hand and touch that soft skin, but he couldn't tear himself away from those green eyes for much too long.

Newkirk let him, looking up at him in silence. Not judging but supporting, just as always. He was so much more than he deserved -and_ so_ not helping him to forget why he loved him in the first place.

Suddenly Hogan felt like he needed to say something, just in case he wouldn't get the chance later, but he still couldn't think of anything he hadn't tried yet.

"I…Newkirk…", he hesitated: "…Peter…I want you to know…in case I don't…"

He was rather surprised when cool fingers on his lips interrupted him. Newkirk shook his head with a rather dark smile, taking just a second too long to remove his hand.

"Some proof o´ confidence, that is.", he quipped sardonically, one eyebrow raised.

Then his expression lost all traces of humor, becoming severe, almost grave instead as he looked at him intensely: "I don't want to hear it, gov´nor. It´s unnecessary. Actions always say more than words, remember that, alright?"

Hogan wanted to protest, but by the time he had gotten over the sensation of the unexpected touch, there was a flash of light and Newkirk broke eye contact for good. He got up as well, throwing his cigarette to the ground.

"That's Carter´s signal.", he said, an adventurous gleam in his eyes: "You as ready to do this as I am?"

* * *

Hogan cut through the barbed wire fence with practiced ease and slipped onto the compound in silence. Then he straightened himself up and walked towards the factory building without looking around.

He knew for certain that his men's eye were on him, Carter and LeBeau waiting for him to reach his position while Newkirk had probably already gotten trough the fence a few feet away where no one would see, shadowing him silently. He would make sure that no one could approach him from behind.

But Hogan was also certain that Hochstetter would already expect him by now, maybe even watch him at this second. He was almost nervous to be ambushed, but didn't really believe it, considering that a sudden death would spoil Hochstetter's moment of victory.

So he kept on walking, blending into the night with less conviction than usually.

He was anxious to be found by now, anxious to end this part of his life and then head into a new morning without the continued threat of that mad man.

But he also had to stick to their plan. He would be the bait for Hochstetter, who would come to him, then Carter would blow up the factory just after Hogan threw himself down onto the car. It wouldn't be elegant but they counted on Hochstetter becoming careless in his eagerness to get revenge. It had worked countless times before after all.

So he climbed up to the roof of the main building and positioned himself as planned.

He was near the edge of the building, looking down to the ground at an unsuspicious parked car with a cover on it, when there was a sound behind him. When he turned around he was honestly surprised to find that Hochstetter was alone.

Damnit, so they would have to seek out Richter afterwards to make sure he didn't get away either. Oh well. Not as easy but also not impossible. Plus, it would give him time to beat the crap out of that arrogant sob.

"Colonel Hogan.", Hochstetter now sneered, arms crossed behind the back of his black uniform: "What a coincidence meeting you here of all people."

Hogan almost rolled his eyes. He really wasn't in the mood for the man's games anymore; this thing needed to be…well, if not clean then at least simple.

Seeing as he had to wait for Carter to be ready though, he had no choice but to strike up a conversation. He made sure he was in position, close to the edge, easily seen from the ground so Carter would know when to push the detonator.

"Not much of a coincidence, I would say.", he sneered disdainfully, stepping from one foot to the other. He was a bit startled when Hochstetter suddenly brought his right hand to the front aiming a gun at him. He didn't shoot though but just waved him closer with it: "Don't be shy now, Hogan. Standing back there won't save you from a bullet, come here and talk to my face like the man you say you are."

Hogan hesitated, reluctant because it would mess up their plan entirely.

Then again, he would accept going down with Hochstetter as long as _he did_ go down for good. At least the others would be safe. Reasonably mad, but safe.

In addition to that, he didn't really have much of a choice; if he refused Hochstetter would just shoot him anyway. So he took a couple of steps forward, clenching is fists to keep them still effectively. He thought he heard the ghost of a curse somewhere below but ignored it. They would understand.

"So,", Hochstetter tilted his head slightly, mustering him like a snake: "No backup this time, Hogan? Seems you've learned your lesson."

"Well, you know how it is.", Hogan answered coolly, refusing to take the bait even though it made him want to strangle the man: "If you want the job to get done right you have to do it yourself."

"That may be the case with your merry bunch of saboteurs, Hogan.", barked Hochstetter, all pride and glee: "But I find that _my_ men are very capable in every aspect."

Hogan couldn't help but scoff at that, thinking of how Richter had practically helped him set up this little scheme: "You´d be surprised."

Hochstetter was intelligent enough to understand Hogan was referring to Richter´s incompetence on some level, but not aware enough to realize Hogan´s amusement wasn't just an empty retort meant to sting.

Instead he grinned: "I take it you have met my colleague, Captain Richter, then? He was very pleased to keep an eye on you and your corporal for me."

His grin widened, knowing he´d hit home when Hogan tensed at the mention of Newkirk.

"How is he by the way?", he pried in a parody of actual interest: "Still alive I presume?"

"No thanks to you or Richter.", Hogan growled darkly.

"Now _you_´d be surprised.", Hochstetter laughed at him, lowering his voice as if letting Hogan in on a secret: "Did you know, when I first instructed Richter to go to Stalag 13, his mission was to find a reason to shoot Corporal Newkirk in front of you. Good old fashioned revenge after you had conveniently given me such fuel. Yet after a day or two he convinced me that I could make you suffer more by waiting and doing it myself."

"What makes you think I would bring him here?"; Hogan asked, an eyebrow raised. He refused to think about the fact that Hochstetter was right in his assumption or the question just why Richter had wanted to keep Newkirk around.

He didn't have time as Hochstetter's reply almost stopped his heart:

"Oh, seeing him standing there is proof enough for me."

Shocked, Hogan whirled around when Hochstetter pointed to the side only to see Newkirk standing to his far left by the stairs that lead to the roof. What the…?

Hogan couldn´t keep a startled curse to slip form his lips as he half stepped forward, one hand extended. He was stopped short by the gun Hochstetter suddenly drew and pointed at his chest. Grudgingly, he stayed still while his mind was screaming.

Damnit, he should have known better; he should have known that Newkirk would never let himself be pushed into the role of a passive observer or let him sacrifice himself for them.

Now it was too late and he had a real live problem to deal with along with the bad memories this situation brought up. The last time Hochstetter had pointed a gun at the two of them he had come a hair´s width from killing first Newkirk, then him.

"How nice of you to join us, corporal.", Hochstetter sneered, his gun now aimed at the Englander: "That way I won't have to send someone to the camp to get rid of you come morning."

Newkirk just looked at him evenly, the picture of casual indifference: "Aren't you going to ask Richer to do that?"

Hochstetter seemed mildly surprised at his composure but didn't waver. He fully turned to him, distracted from Hogan for the moment: "Actually, no. You see, I really can't use any witnesses here, and he knows way too much. So I told him to wait down in the factory building until I come to get him. - Which I won't."

He sniggered in a way that was downright disturbing, grinning at him conspiratorially: "I shouldn't tell you but you won't have the opportunity to tell him anyway."

Even with that cruel revelation, Newkirk didn't bat an eyelash which made Hogan wonder what he was up to. Did he actually have a plan or was he just attempting to die with his head held high? As it was he could do nothing but wait, and pray that it wasn't the latter.

"I can´t say I'm surprised.", Newkirk told Hochstetter nonchalantly.

It was obvious that his behavior was starting to unnerve the SS Major too, because he glared at him now, his voice just below an actual snapping sound: "Why did you come here then if you could have gotten a good head start running away?"

If he had been about to suspect the same thing as Hogan it was shattered the very next moment, when Newkirk stepped a bit closer, his expression becoming hard.

"Because I need to be here when it happens. I know you have no reason to, but please let me stay here."

Hochstetter merely raised an eyebrow before his grin returned. He turned to Hogan who was starting to get truly unnerved by Newkirk´s reckless request.

"Oh, isn't that sweet?", he sneered derisively: "He´s come to comfort his colonel in his last minutes on earth."

Before Hogan could answer, he was rather harshly interrupted by Newkirk: "No. I´ve come to watch him die."

There was dead silence following that statement. Both Hochstetter and Hogan were looking at the Englander like he has said something in a foreign language. Hogan was completely confused now. What was going on…?

"Come again?"; Hochstetter finally managed, unblinking.

Newkirk´s expression didn't soften, in fact it became downright murderous: "Let me watch you kill him so I will know he gets what he deserves. I want to know he has to pay for what he did to me."

Had he bothered to look at Hogan he would have seen his CO frozen in shock, mouth agape at what he was hearing. The words´ context was ever so slowly creeping up on him, even as his mind refused to acknowledge them. There was no mistaking the expression on Newkirk´s face though; he had seen it a dozen times before in his nightmares.

Revulsion. Disgust. Anger. Hatred.

No, his mind screamed at him as he stared, it couldn't be. He´d said it was fine… he´d been his friend all throughout…

Hochstetter didn't seem to believe what was happening either: "What…he´s your…what are you talking about?"

Newkirk laughed angrily, waving an arm to vent his anger: "Oh, come on now! Don't tell me this surprises you. You were there after all! You were right there when he made a fool out of me, reduced me to less than a man in the eyes of my comrades! And then kept on harassing me even back at camp!"

He yelled the last part, his face twisting in undisguised fury.

Hochstetter mustered him with surprise and hints of something else; but when his eyes wandered to Hogan´s horrified expression a smile started to spread across his face.

"I suppose he did.", he nodded to himself, obviously enjoying this turn of events: "I suppose I thought you would support him no matter what. Isn't that what you´re all about?"

"He not one of _us_ anymore!"; Newkirk hissed furiously, his disdain so evident that Hogan cringed.

He couldn't believe this was happening. It had to be a trick to fool Hochstetter. But it looked and felt so real…no one was that good an actor…he must feel at least some of the stress he was venting now.

Hogan felt his heart fall. So he had been right; he wasn't forgiven. Of course not.

It hurt like hell thinking about it, but Hogan knew he had no right to complain. All of those accusations were true. Still it tore at his heart to see his love regard him the way he did right now. Like he was the enemy…

"Peter…you…", he started, aware that it sounded weak, pleading.

"Don't ruddy call me that!", he was cut off harshly: "It makes my skin crawl, just knowing I have to sleep in the same room you with you makes me want to rip it right off me bones! You've ruined my life!"

He glared at the horrified colonel, teeth bared as though he was ready to pounce. Hochstetter interfered though.

"So you´re here to help ruin his, is that right?", he inquired, unable to hide his sneer now.

Newkirk simply nodded, never taking his eyes of Hogan´s: "I need for it to end. I need to see him die. Please let me stay, let me help."

Hogan just stood petrified on the spot, unable to move, not even to dry the edges of his eyes. This wasn't real, it couldn't be happening… But there was no mistaking the look in Newkirk´s eyes. He felt himself getting dizzy, unable to breathe.

"But why did you wait until now?"; Hochstetter inquired, still slightly reluctant to adjust his world view.

Newkirk scoffed as though it was painfully obvious: "How was I supposed to get to him with everyone in camp hovering, watching his every step? No, I took the chance to talk to Richter and he promised I would get to see him die if I helped getting him here."

Hogan gasped at that new blow. That was why Newkirk had been the only one allowed in the factory? That was why he hadn't wanted to tell him what had happened with Richter?

"Richter knew about this?", Hochstetter repeated, his stance relaxing as he became confident again. His gun wasn't pointed at Newkirk anymore, his posture less tense. He believed him, too, now.

"Why do you think he insisted on keeping me around?"; Newkirk just shrugged as though it was obvious: "He knew it would be the final strike if I turned against Hogan and convinced me to wait so we could all get our revenge."

At that, Hochstetter suddenly burst out laughing maniacally. He hit his legs unable to calm himself for a long time. By the time he was done both he and Hogan had tears in their eyes if for very different reasons.

"Well.", he suggested, still grinning evilly at Newkirk: "In that case why don't you kill him?"

"You mean it?" Newkirk´s enthusiastic tone made Hogan's stomach turn.

What had first sounded like a cruel joke, suddenly became very real.

"Far be it from me to make an ally unhappy. Plus, I think I´d enjoy the irony of Hogan being literally killed by his love."

"Alright.", Newkirk nodded eagerly.

He extended a hand toward Hochstetter's gun but the man just pulled away, laughing playfully: "Not so fast, my trust in you is only a minute old, my dear corporal, so you will understand that I don't want to risk having you turn on me in the last second."

The last bit of hope in Hogan was shattered when Newkirk didn't even hesitate at that.

"Of course. Keep it.", he agreed, pulling out a knife. It glinted dangerously in the moonlight: "Let me use this, I´d prefer to feel it go in.

Hogan felt like with his hope the rest of him had died. Now it was just his body standing there, in front of the man he loved and who hated him just as much. He didn't move, or try to debate.

With words alone, Newkirk had already put a knife through his heart and then twisted it. Actually stabbing him now couldn't possibly be more painful.

He remained still, as Newkirk stalked towards him, anger widening his strides. His free hand shot forward to push hard against Hogan's chest.

"I can´t wait to finally kill you!", he growled as the other man stumbled backwards: "You bloody humiliated me and then expected to be pitied on top of it all! Day after day of whining about how people wouldn't put up with you anymore when that just proved their point!"

He glared at him hatefully, pushing him backwards again, harder this time.

Hogan had trouble catching himself but didn't try to defend himself. Just that seemed to set off his corporal even more. He lunged at him, fist connecting painfully with his jaw.

"Even now!", he hissed, grabbing him by the collar, choking him: "Even now you won't fight back! You think I will pity you anymore because you let me hurt you? You hurt me so much worse! Not by hitting me, no, you went so much deeper, right beneath my skin! And now you won't even defend yourself. "

He shook his CO violently, raising the hand with the knife as he yelled:

"What do you have to say for yourself? What!"

"I´m sorry.", Hogan whispered brokenly, a single tear slipping down his cheek as he let Newkirk manhandle him without resistance.

For a moment, there was nothing but ice in the glare he received; far more frightening than the uncontrolled anger from before. Then there was a flash in those green eyes and Hogan knew he was going to do it.

"Well, _sorry_ won't cut it.", Newkirk growled: "But this will."

And with that his free hand grabbed the fabric of his jacket roughly, close to the heart, yanking him forward before plunging the knife right into yielding flesh.

Hogan gasped breathlessly as blood splattered over his neck and face, doing the same to Newkirk´s. It started flowing, and God there was so much of it, dripping to the ground, completely staining Newkirk´s hands and arms.

Before he could look up he was shoved one more time. He hadn't realized he was standing by the edge until he flew over it, sailing through nothing but air. He caught a last glimpse of Newkirk´s bloodied face before it vanished in the dark above him.

* * *

Newkirk´s face was a grim mask as he turned around to Hochstetter, his bloodied hand still clutching the glistering knife.

Hochstetter looked at him approvingly, letting him walk freely over the roof. Newkirk wandered to the other side of the edge throwing the knife into the dark below.

"Well I didn't expect it to turn out this way.", Hochstetter told him good-humoredly: "But since you did me and Richter such a favor here I will be gracious. What do you want in return?"

This time when Newkirk smiled at him, there was no sign of anger, just calm satisfaction: "Oh, don't worry. I'm about to get it."

And with that he spun around and jumped straight off the edge of the building before Hochstetter could move an inch. The explosion ripping through air and structure behind him just three second later was enough to throw him a long way before he hit the ground.

* * *

Hogan lay on his back without moving as the sky above him was suddenly consumed by noise and fire.

He stared blankly, with wet cheeks, one hand still clutching his stained jacket. He barely noticed the men running towards him, pulling him to his feet as he lifted a shaking hand to stare at it. The crimson on it glistened almost black in the backlight.

There were insistent voices calling his name now but he barely heard it over his racing pulse. He clutched his chest again, the part where Newkirk had shoved him just a minute ago to see the fabric wet but whole. But…!

"He stabbed…his hand?", he croaked incredulously, gaping blindly at whoever was standing next to him.

Someone grabbed him shoulder shaking him. Carter.

"I'm sorry, sir. Newkirk told us not to tell you about the backup plan so your reaction would be genuine. Where is he?"

The grip tightened but Hogan barely felt it; he was too consumed with his reeling mind screaming bits and pieces of past phrases and emotions at him. It all came together now…

_Actions, not words. Sacrifice, not revenge._

"What?", he whispered incredulously, still not sure this was actually happening. Newkirk didn't hate him? It had been a show, a farce to fool Hochstetter? And it had worked so perfectly that he too had believed every word of it.

"He isn't….?", he asked again, afraid to allow relief to flood him.

Carter just looked at him with confusion but also alarm.

"He´s not with you?", he asked, misunderstanding his words and yet pointing out an important fact.

Newkirk had remained on the roof. The roof that had been blown to pieces along with Hochstetter. Fear slammed into him at that, effectively pushing aside all doubt and shock.

"Sir, which side did he jump off to!", LeBeau was urging him now, already looking around them to maybe find a sign of the Englander.

Hogan didn't answer him.

Without wasting another moment he broke away from Carter´s grip and ran towards the building again as fast as his shaking legs would allow and faster.

* * *

Newkirk groaned with the side of his face pressed into the hard ground below. His head was ringing, every bone in head body aching from the impact of the fall.

Behind him he could feel the scorching heat of a growing inferno in stark contrast to the cold earth. He smiled despite the throbbing pain shooting through his hand as he clenched it.

They´d done it. It had worked brilliantly.

Hochstetter was blown to pieces along with a significant puzzle piece of the enemy´s war effort.

Now all he had left to do was find Hogan, make sure he found out it had only been a necessary ruse and then make sure that Richter had been in the building when it went up.

Then they could all finally have a peaceful night´s rest. It was finally over.

Despite the protesting of his body, he pushed himself up on his hands and knees, taking the time to catch his breath. Then he shrugged off his jacket, ripping off the sleeve to wrap it tightly around the bleeding hole in his palm.

It hurt like hell, just like the rest of him for falling without something to ease the impact but it was worth it.

There were steps of heavy boots approaching quickly over the crackling of fire. Good, so he wouldn't have to look for the guys.

"Need a hand?", a male voice asked from directly above him and Newkirk nodded thankfully, raising his head only to realize he wasn't looking into a friend´s face.

* * *

**ha! managed to squeeze in one more of those nasty cliffhangers! now I´m happy to. **

**Sorry again for having Newkirk be so mean, but he did it for love...or honor...or whatever they ususallly do it for.**

**Thank you guys for reading. Now review. Pleeeeeeeeeeze?**


	17. Chapter 17

Hey :-)

First off, I know I said this would be the last chapter but it just got way too long so I had to didvide it up again.

So, sorry about that, but I am already almost finished with the rest, too, so I will update it by the beginning of next week I think.

Secondly, **thank you **guys so much for commenting, it really made my day. Keep it up :-)

Anyway, on with the story:

* * *

At first there was nothing but grass and dirt, illuminated randomly by pieces of burning material falling from the sky like snowflakes. Then, as he looked harder he could make out the smears of blood on the ground, black in the night.

Next, he spotted an all too familiar blue hat lying somewhere close to where the first trees were. It had blood on it as well.

He wanted to run, knew he needed to hurry, but he also knew that he would lose any chance he had of getting to Newkirk in time would be blown if he just ran around heedlessly. As he was staring into the dark forest, blankly, trying to decide on what to do, the others caught up to him.

"Where is he?", LeBeau asked urgently, looking to his leader for a response: "Did you look on all sides?"

Hogan didn't answer at first, his eyes darting from the factory to the forest; he seemed beyond jumpy, like he could barely stand to stay still.

"Did you?", LeBeau insisted, only to be snapped at.

"Yes, god dammit, he´s gone!", Hogan said desperately, clutching the side of his head in distress: "But I can't figure out…I can't think…"

LeBeau simply nodded, not at all surprised that Hogan was out of it after what had happened to him; he pushed his CO aside and inspected the ground around them more closely. Then he knelt down, one hand smoothing over the muddy grass there: "There´s footstep leading into the forest."

"Why would he have gone there?"

"He wouldn't have.", LeBeau looked up at him, now clearly distressed himself: "Not with the way he fell. He´s lucky if he didn't break anything but I doubt he would have felt like running. No, someone dragged him."

He pointed at the ground to show them the footprints, several too many to be from just one person.

"But I don't understand.", Carter said helplessly: "Who would have any reason to do that? A guard would have shot him or sounded the alarm and Hochstetter's dead, right…?"

"Yes."; LeBeau nodded: "But maybe…colonel, do you think Richter…wasn't in the factory when it exploded?"

Hogan who had just been staring at the traces of the fight, snapped to attention, his eyes suddenly very much focused, and not at all confused.

"Richter…", he repeated tonelessly, his eyes widening and confirming LeBeau´s suspicion. It made sense.

"Alright, we need to form…", the little Frenchman started to plan, only to be interrupted by his CO.

"LeBeau, you go get backup, take Carter with you, don't stay on the compound…"

"But colonel…!"

But Hogan didn't hear him as he was already almost at the tree line, once more running as fast as he could.

Inwardly he swore while his blood pumped adrenaline and fear through his veins. He should have known Richter wouldn't be as easily fooled as Hochstetter liked to believe, he should have seen it. Now Newkirk was paying for his stupidity.

He made himself run faster even as his lungs felt like they were on fire. Richter had screwed with his life so much already. He wasn't going to let him take the most important thing, too.

* * *

For what felt like the fifth time, Newkirk stumbled over a root, twisting his ankle painfully. He would have fallen face first to the forest floor if it weren't for the iron grip around his upper arm dragging him up and forward again.

Richter was dragging him along with long strides, bringing them deeper and deeper into the woods and further away from rescue.

He was sure that by now no one would hear him if he screamed. That was if he had been able to in the first place. As it was, his lungs had trouble getting enough oxygen to breathe sufficiently. They felt just like the rest of his body: like a piece of rubber that had been set on fire and then crushed under a boot to purge the flames.

With no way to protest verbally, he tried to break Richter's death grip on him again, still failing. It had been no use back at the factory when he had tried to fight him off and it was no use now that he was half unconscious.

Even without aching bones and a very likely concussion, Richter was by far stronger than him. So he had no choice but to let himself be hauled away, trying to quench the upwelling fear, all the while wondering why Richter hadn't just shot him back at the factory.

He could feel the rage radiating in waves form the other man; it made no sense that he would restrain himself, unless…he shuddered, immediately renewing his efforts to break free. He´d prefer getting shot quickly over whatever the man had planned.

They were pretty far in the woods by now and just came across a small riverbank, lined by oak trees. It dawned on Newkirk that he had no idea where they where –and if he didn't then the others wouldn't either.

"Wha…", he panted, pulling harder at his arm: "Where are we going…?"

Richter stopped in his tracks so abruptly that Newkirk would have run into him if the man hadn't immediately grabbed him forcefully by the collar and slammed him against a nearby tree so hard that it knocked the air out of him.

"Nowhere.", Richter hissed, one hand gripping his collar so tightly he couldn't breathe.

Newkirk gasped in shock and pain, his good hand grasping at the choke hold in rising panic. He tried to tear himself free despite the pain it caused his body, but was stopped short when Richter used the rest of his body to hold him into place.

"How did you do it?", he hissed, staring at him out of eyes that were burning and freezing him into position at the same time.

With his body going numb from oxygen deprivation, he barely registered the content of what Richter had asked.

"Cant…breathe…", he choked desperately, still trying to pry the man's hand of his neck.

After a moment, Richter adjusted his grip a bit but he didn't release him.

"How?", he demanded again: "Hogan didn't have a prayer! Hochstetter could have shot him so easily; they were on there for over five minutes."

Newkirk fought hard to think past the fog forming in his head and focus. Talk. There was no reason he couldn't just tell him. As long as he talked, Richter wouldn't do anything else…time for the others to figure out he was gone…

"I…told him…I wanted to do it.", he all but croaked: "…kill the guv´nor meself."

"And why would he believe that…?", Richter asked incredulously, a little calmer now that he became confused.

Newkirk refused to let any emotions show on his face as he answered: "Because he knows I have every reason to hate him."

What he had had to do still gnawed at him, but he had no time for self refection now. While his story actually seemed to lighten up his enemy´s mood, he didn't think to release his grip even by a bit.

As if falling of his head from a three story building hadn't made him dizzy enough.

"So you, what…shot him?"

"Stabbed him.", he corrected dryly: "Or pretended to."

Richter raised a bemused eyebrow at him before his hand shot out, roughly grasping Newkirk´s injured one and pulling it to his face. He ignored the Englishman's attempts to break free as he eyed the blood soaked cloth around the palm.

"Very clever." His thumb brushed the middle of Newkirk´s palm, freezing him in apprehension.

„And much more melodramatic, I suppose."; he chuckled like it was all a big joke: "The man takes your virtue and you stab him in the heart? They don't write ´em like that anymore."

Newkirk gasped in pain when he suddenly pressed down on the stab wound, mercilessly digging his thumb into it until he saw stars. He felt his stomach turn and his knees give out as his body threatened to shut down from the renewed stressor; he sagged but Richter merely pressed him into the tree more firmly, keeping him trapped in the sensation.

"You only forgot the part where you kill yourself afterwards.", he smiled sardonically as he finally let go, brushing his now bloody thumb across Newkirk´s cheekbone: "But don't worry I´ll be more than happy to assist with that."

Newkirk returned his gaze with utter disdain, refusing to let the weakness he felt take over.

"Why are we still talking then?", he taunted: "Why not just kill me right back there?"

As little as he wanted to die, it would surely be preferable as any alternative the man could come up with. Richter clicked his tongue disapprovingly, softly shaking his head no:

"You know why, I was only a matter of minutes before your dear colonel got himself together and came looking for you. And I really don't want to rush this."

_´Great_,´ Newkirk thought, his heart falling: ´_No surprise there.´_

"Maybe you should have.", a voice from behind them growled just then, interrupting them.

Before Newkirk had even registered what was happening, Richter had whirled them both around, one arm around Newkirk´s shoulders close to choking him again as he was pulled back into a hard body. Richter's other hand had his gun cocked and pressed against the Englishman's temple.

As he tried to put room between the arm choking him and his neck without having to lean into his captor, Newkirk stared wide eyed at his commanding officer, standing not five feet away from them. He was pale and covered in dirt, a disheveled mess much like himself - but it all faded next to the smoldering look in his eyes.

"Colonel Hogan.", Richter said, so close to Newkirk´s ear that it made him jump: "What took you so long?"

Hogan ignored his taunts, his hand twitching to pull out the gun at his belt.

"You let him go right now…", he growled threateningly.

"Or what?", Richter cut him off, mocking him: "Try to shoot me and you'll hit your lover here. You have everything to lose…me on the other hand…"

When the barrel left Newkirk´s temple for a moment, he knew without seeing it that it was now pointing towards Hogan. His hands automatically clawed at Richter´s, leaving marks there that the other ignored.

"So shoot me!", he cut in hastily, knowing it sounded as desperate as he felt: "You want to hurt him, you don't have to kill him for that. Kill me instead."

Richter laughed into his ear, his proximity eliciting an enraged growl form Hogan: "Nice try, corporal. But I´m not Hochstetter who you can play like that. I will kill you both - but only after you've paid for making a fool of me."

He chuckled, looking up at Hogan again as he pressed the gun to Newkirk´s head once more.

"So, colonel, would you like me to shoot you right away or did you want to watch while I screw your corporal one more time and then get shot along with him?"

Newkirk froze at those words, unable to believe he had actually said that. No! Not after everything he´d done to protect Hogan from that ugly mess he´d gotten himself into.

With dawning horror, he stared at Hogan wide eyed while the colonel stared at Richter, obviously thinking he´d heard wrong.

Richter laughed at his expression: "You really had no idea, did you? Oh, this is just too good! What did he tell you then after he came back from the factory? That I hit him in the face? Well, I did - but it wasn't so much to shut him up as to get his mouth open, if you understand. And all because he wanted to protect you. That's got to sting."

Newkirk -feeling his own heart break at those words- stared just past Hogan's shoulder by now, unable to meet the man´s eyes because he knew well he´d find dread there.

Damn that Richter! If he could just make him stop talking…

"Liar.", Hogan finally choked out, the anger in his voice less noticeable as it was shaking: "You´re lying…" It sounded almost desperate, not at all convinced.

"Oh, you think so…", Richter readily crushed the remainder of his hope, relishing in his destruction: "Why…because he told you differently?"

As he spoke he lazily ran the barrel of the gun over Newkirk´s neck, then over his chest and further down. Newkirk´s attempt to shake him off was rewarded with a tighter grip around his throat that effectively cut off his air supply once again.

Richer pulled him closer if that was even possible, taking no note of the man cringing at the unwanted contact. The fingers around his throat relaxed a bit, tracing invisible patterns on his skin instead to anger Hogan further.

It worked amazingly well. It was amazing that Hogan still had enough will power to stand still, judging by the way his face was changing color.

"Well, I think he´s proven tonight that he´s a very good liar and that he would do anything to keep you safe.", Richter shrugged as though it was obvious he was right; then his voice took a deeper note, taunting once more: "Do you want to know what he did for me to spare your pathetic life? He…"

He didn't get to finish that sentence because Hogan suddenly launched himself at him with an enraged roar, hands aiming for his throat even though he was five feet away.

Newkirk more felt than saw Richter shift and take the gun´s barrel away from his head. For a split second he was petrified with fear, his heart skipping a beat, but then, before Richter had even had time to fully stretch out his arm towards Hogan, he rammed his elbow into the man's stomach with all the strength he could muster.

A shot rang out.

Richter toppled to the floor, gasping for air, the pull at his shoulders bringing Newkirk down at the same time and finally giving him room to breathe. He hit the ground hard but barely registered it.

Hastily, he pushed himself up on his elbows only to see that Hogan had also gone down. There was blood on his jacket, blood on his hands.

"No…", he choked on the word, fighting to get back to his feet. It hadn't worked: he had averted a headshot but Hogan had still been hit and now he lay there not moving - perhaps not breathing.

With panic setting in, he didn't register Richter getting back up next to him until he was roughly seized by his hair and pulled upwards.

He yelped at the sudden additional pain, his hand flying up to dislodge the fingers digging ruthlessly into his scalp. It was no use though and he had no choice but to struggle to his feet to relieve the pressure.

Richter didn't give him time to regain his balance, his eyes as hard as his grip. He was fuming, furious even though he had managed to hit his target after all.

"You´ll regret that.", he hissed, forcing the other man's face up to meet his eyes.

Newkirk did his best to look at him defiantly which was hard considering his eyesight was blurred from tears of pain. He gasped when Richter's other hand shot out, harshly grabbing his jaw and thereby effectively immobilizing him.

He was pulled closer, suddenly finding himself within inches of the other man's face.

Richter was smiling now, something that felt downright terrifying in combination with his fury. It spelled trouble.

"You know…", Richter told him in a husked voice, pinning him down with his stare: "I would really have enjoyed seeing Hogan suffer while I break you. But since you deprived me of that option I'll just have to make do with hurting you, wont I?"

His lips crushed Newkirk´s before he could even think to come up with an answer, the familiar revolting sensation quickly replaced with a stinging pain when Richter bit down on his lower lip harshly.

Newkirk jumped at the pain, still unable to even turn his head away. He closed his eyes in disgust when he felt Richter's tongue lapping at the blood oozing from the broken skin.

As he had before, he made himself redirect his thoughts, tune out his fear and everything that was happening. Richter couldn't hurt him, he told himself over and over again. Not worse than he already had. He could break him down physically but the only way he had had to get to his heart had been shooting Hogan.

With that already done, Newkirk focused on praying that it hadn't been a fatal wound, that Hogan was just unconscious and would be able to hold on until the other s arrived.

Richter leaned in closer, regaining his swagger with every second he was in control like that. His nose brushed against the shell of Newkirk´s ear and he couldn't help but shiver at the sensation.

"So quiet all out of a sudden?", Richter´s breath hit his skin, hot against the surrounding cool: "Have I finally managed to scare you?"

"You can´t hurt me.", Newkirk repeated the line he´d said in his head over and over again, refusing to break down as he was faced with what was probably the end. He wouldn´t give the bastard that satisfaction.

"I can't, huh?"; Richter smiled evilly: "Well, why don't we see about that?"

The hand holding his face disappeared while the other tightened its grip. Richter whirled him around forcefully, dragging him towards the nearby creek.

His breath caught as he was roughly thrown forward, his skin immediately being pierced by the freezing water that engulfed him up to his thighs and elbows. Before he could try to get back on his feet, Richter was behind him grabbing his hair once more.

Then he felt like he had been hit over the head, icy water burning his face and seeping into his lungs. He closed his mouth too late, with no oxygen from holding his breath and the insatiable need to cough up the water he´d swallowed.

The hand in his hair was steady and relentless as he thrashed wildly, trying to get back up. He dint have a prayer. That man could take him out with one hand tied behind his back.

Just as he began to see stars in front of his eyes, he was finally pulled above water and against a hard chest. He barely registered the continuing pain or Richter´s uncomfortable proximity, busy coughing and trying to catch his breath.

A calloused hand grabbed the front of his jacket, tearing through seams and buttons effortlessly until his bare skin was exposed to the nightly air.

"How's that for hurt?", a voice hissed in his ear while sharp nails left parallel red marks on his chest. Surprisingly, even though it wasn't as intense, it was almost worse than the feeling of drowning. He struggled weakly, futilely.

"Don't worry.", Richter´s voice was deceivingly soothing over his own labored breathing: "I won't drown you. Yet. I'm just giving you a preview of what's to come. I wouldn't want you unconscious before we get to the fun part…because I can think of a few other ways to hurt you…and real good, too…"

Newkirk felt his stomach churn at the words whispered against his dripping hair, and knew that he could not go through what the man was suggesting.

"Are you just gonna talk or can we get on with the drowning?", he croaked aggressively: "Or can´t you even follow through on simple threats…?"

"Oh, you're just a glutton for punishment, aren't you?"; Richter crooned, clearly amused: "I just wish Colonel Hogan could have seen you now…well, you´ll get to tell him all about it when you meet him in hell."

And with that he was pushed down again, this time his whole torso instead of just his head. Rational thought faded, leaving only the sensation of needles all over his skin, of his lungs exploding with pressure.

Even though he knew it was pointless his instincts kicked in, fighting the relentless grip on him with all he had. Futile once again.

After what seemed like an eternity -his body going numb already - there was muffled pang above his head, ringing through water and dying ears.

The hold on his head vanished, something heavy falling into the water next to him. Seconds later, the water seemed to warm up a bit as well as somehow getting darker.

He tried to wrap his head around what was happening, tried to get up, get to the saving air just above him, but he had no strength left, no sensation in his limbs.

´_God, please don't let the gov´nor be dead…don't let this be for nothing´, _was the last thing floating across his mind before darkness mercifully swept away the pain, the cold and the fear.

* * *

To be continued... :-)

Hope you liked it. Please review.


	18. Chapter 18

Alright, here is the last chapter! Exicted much?

* * *

Hogan came to because of the same pain that had rendered him unconscious in the first place. White hot and searing his flesh, his hand shot up to tear it from his body only to realize it was inside of him.

He blinked furiously, trying to focus on what had happened.

Richter. He´d shot him just after threatening Newkirk…

Newkirk.

His eyes shot open then, this heart racing. Suddenly there was no room anymore for his own pain; all he could see before his eyes was the expression of horror on the Englander´s face just before he was shot.

He left him there, alone with that monster…alone to be hurt…or killed. He listened for yelling or screaming but it was quiet now and that upset him even more.

Why was it so quiet? Why couldn't he hear his voice anymore? He fought down panic as he struggled to get into a sitting position. Had he been unconscious too long, long enough for Richter to follow through on his threat?

He was fully awake now, struggling to his feet despite the excruciating pain. There was blood seeping through is fingers where he clutched his left shoulder, mixing with Newkirk´s from earlier. It didn't seem to be much more than a graze wound, the bullet hurt like hell where it was lodged in his muscle but it didn't look too dangerous.

He paid no more attention to it then as his eyes fixed on the scene before him.

What he saw staggered him. Richter was kneeling in the little river close by, his hands pushing Newkirk´s head underwater forcefully.

Panic and fury swept across Hogan´s chest at the same time, and he reached for the gun on his belt without thinking.

Richter looked up at the sound of the gun being cocked but didn't shift his position.

"Looks like you get to watch after all."; he said mockingly, with a smile that simply flipped a switch in Hogan's head.

Before he knew it, he had pulled the trigger, hitting the blonde man squarely in the chest. Richter staggered a bit, thrown of balance by the force of the impact, staring incredulously at the hole in his chest.

His hand slipped from Newkirk´s head, releasing him, but the Englander didn't sit up, didn't move at all.

Seeing the horror dawn on Hogan's face, Richter managed to smile victoriously through his pain. "I win after all.", he stated through clenched teeth: "Surely _hell_ will provide lots of opportunities for me to f- ".

The second bullet went straight through his brain, the third and fourth hit his heart.

Hogan stood breathing heavily, his clip emptied before Richter's lifeless body hit the water. He stared at the disappearing enemy for another split second, trying to regain his composure before he thought to run.

He ran toward the creek, not minding his clothes or wound and pulled Newkirk´s unmoving body out of the icy water. Hastily, he pulled him into his arm and grabbed his chin to look into his face. His eyes were shut, his now black hair plastered to a face that was frighteningly pale. He wasn't breathing.

"Christ…no…", Hogan cursed, shaking the man fearfully: "No, no…don't do this to me!"

He almost fell over his own feet as he scrambled back onto the solid forest floor, dragging dead weight along with him until he thought his arm would fall off. Next to an oak tree, he lowered Newkirk to the ground and knelt at his side, immediately starting with everything he remembered about CPR.

For a nerve wrecking fraction of eternity, his attempts were futile, doing nothing but remind him that, he too, had come close to ending up like Richter. Yet –even as his arm was beginning to feel like it might fall off any second - he couldn't have stopped if he tried to, could never have accepted that the morbid parody of a kiss he was forcing on the unconscious man beneath him would be the last touch he remembered of him.

Finally though, a violent tremor went through the Englander´s body and the next second he was coughing and spitting water, frantically grasping at Hogan´s arms for support as he tried to catch his breath. The colonel sent a silent _thank you_ upwards, letting out the breath he hadn't noticed he had held.

With the sparse remainder of his energy, he pulled him halfway up, patting his back until the coughing slowly subsided and faded into flat, ragged breaths. When he was sure the other man would be fine, he let himself fall against the tree in his back, pulling Newkirk against his chest for support as he recovered.

He was mindful enough to pull the zipper on the other man´s jacket shut so he wouldn´t be exposed to the cold any further. His skin already felt icy to the touch but he didn't hesitate to pull him closer, warming him with his own body.

As exhaustion finally caught up to Hogan, he closed his eyes and sent a silent prayer to whatever god had heard him.

It took Newkirk a while longer to regain his wits but eventually he managed to speak again without risking another coughing fit.

"Bloody…´ell…", he heard him rasp after a few moments: "I´ll kill that sodding bastard meself now…"

It sounded very unlike Newkirk´s normal voice but it was still so much of a relief that Hogan couldn't help but smile and pull him closer for a moment, the closest to a hug he could manage right then.

"Sorry to disappoint you.", he murmured tiredly: "But that's already taken care of."

There was silence for a moment, then Newkirk relaxed against him again, not even noting their unusual position.

"Oh, well…", he grumbled, sounding more relieved than disappointed: "I guess that's fair as I got Hochstetter."

Hogan chuckled, savoring the knowledge that both of his enemies were indeed gone for good. They were safe now. It was almost a miracle after he had come so close to losing…but no, he couldn't think of that anymore. It was over, _he_ was okay, they were both okay…

His train of thought must have reflected unconsciously in the tightening of his arm around Newkirk because he shifted then, looking up at Hogan.

His eyes seemed bloodshot and more than a little glassy but he was lucid enough to look startled when he saw Hogan's face: "Gov´nor…why…are you crying?"

Hogan let out a shaky laugh, unable to stop himself as relief flooded him and left him lightheaded. It _was_ all good.

"Water…from the creek…", he simply said and was glad when Newkirk seemed content with that half truth.

He took a deep breath and leaned further back into the tree behind him, all the while never letting go of the other man. Newkirk was either too out of it to notice or he simply didn't mind because he, too, just leant back, trying to calm down after the shock of almost dying.

They took a moment to come down, to let the adrenaline fade from their system; all they had to do was wait to be found by the team now.

After a while, Newkirk shifted again, his hand finding the older man´s good shoulder and squeezing it to get his attention.

"Gov´nor…I need to…I mean…", he started without making eye contact: "I´m awfully sorry about what I said earlier…I had to or he´d have killed you…"

He sounded so guilty that Hogan would have believed and forgiven him anything. So he nodded, smiling reassuringly:

„I know. I should have known then, too, but I didn't…"

"Why not?"

"Because it made so much sense.", his smile became rueful, strained in a way. Remembering that experience still stung now, but he pushed it aside.

"No, I doesn't.", Newkirk shook his head with conviction, moaning when it caused another wave of dizziness. Sighing softly, Hogan pulled him back down to him.

"Don't move, they´ll be here soon to get us."

Surprisingly Newkirk complied, letting himself be stilled. He must be worse than he let on, Hogan pondered, if he didn't even get mad at being _patronized_ again.

Thinking about his condition still made his stomach turn now, the fear for his life was still there, gnawing at the edges of his consciousness, and suddenly he felt a certain irritation welling up.

"How could you do that?", he inquired, receiving a surprised look at his tone: "How could you be so reckless? Hochstetter could have shot you, too!"

Newkirk just shrugged, unimpressed: "Someone had to do something after you went off course. Besides, I told you I can take one for the team."

"Looks more like you took one for each team member today.", Hogan frowned, his fingers carefully prying Newkirk´s wet hair off his forehead to inspect it for wounds. There wasn't any blood but he was still sure the man had at least a slight concussion.

Which probably was the reason why he hadn't commented on Hogan's hand in his hair in the first place…

"Yeah, that Richter sure knows…knew how to deal blows."; Newkirk agreed seemingly calm, but his voice had an edge to it as he said it that made Hogan wonder again just how exactly the Gestapo man had attacked him.

"Still I´d rather it was me.", Newkirk continued, oblivious to his thoughts: "I was afraid the shot had hit you back there…"

"It did.", Hogan told him, gently pushing him back down as Newkirk made to sit up in alarm: "It´s just my shoulder. Wilson can take it out once were in camp."

He hesitated a moment before asking a question he´d rather had left untouched but knew he had to ask: "Did he…does he have to check you, too?"

Newkirk nodded, either not getting the underlying question or purposefully ignoring it.

"Blimey, I think he´d better check me head. My vision is all screwed up…", he held out a hand in front of his face as if counting the fingers: "Plus, I seem to have a hole in me hand. Gotta do something about that…"

Slightly impatient, Hogan interrupted his mumbling:

"No, I mean…what Richter said…was it true…did he…?"; he couldn't bring himself to finish as he felt Newkirk tense against him, the fingers of his hand twitching a little.

For a moment, he was completely still, but when he spoke his voice didn't waver: "Just now he threatened to…but he didn't follow through. You stopped him… But what he said about before - those were nothing but lies to make you angry."

He didn't look up saying it and Hogan was left to stare at his profile while he tried to determine whether it was a lie. After all, Newkirk had proved tonight that he could make him believe a lot of things; Richter had been right about that.

"I´m sorry.", he whispered, afraid his voice would break.

Newkirk´s voice was strong though when he replied without hesitance: "You´ve got nothing to be sorry for. And he got what he deserved. It´s all behind us now."

Even if he wanted to, Hogan had a hard time just accepting that. He knew he would never forgive himself for not protecting him. But he also understood that Newkirk just wanted to leave those memories behind.

Plus, there was no physical evidence he could see to suggest Richter had done anything but pushed him under water. So he decided against prying further, wanting to believe it was true with all that was in him.

"I´m so glad.", he murmured, and felt the tension drain from Newkirk´s shoulders almost immediately: "I thought he…"

"Nope."; Newkirk interrupted him, a little too carefree to sound real: "So far you're the only guy to get under my clothes."

Hogan started, then felt his heart sink at that, guilt creeping up on him again, even as Newkirk chuckled. He didn't see how Newkirk could even joke about that, concussion or not, it just wasn't funny.

But Newkirk kept talking, not catching on to his CO´s tension. He was actually cracking up, apparently thinking of something that appeared funny in his frazzled state of mind. Hogan didn't want to ask. He didn't have to.

"I´m really starting to feel like a ruddy damsel in distress, ya know?", he chuckled: "You saved my life for the second time in two weeks now. No kiss for me this time, huh? Should I be offended?"

Hogan stared at him incredulously, all the while avoiding looking at said lips. He couldn't think of a more inappropriate time for feelings of that nature. Still they were there, as always, and this didn't exactly make it easier to ignore them.

"You really did hit your head hard, didn't you?", he managed after a while.

Newkirk shrugged, uncaring: "Among other things. I'm feeling kind of lightheaded but I guess drowning will do that to you."

He really was developing a weird sense of humor. Not that Hogan minded as long as was talking and breathing, preferably to him.

"So how about it?", Newkirk inquired, tilting his head back to look up at him.

The movement automatically had Hogan's hand shift to his cheek and he couldn't bring himself to remove it. His fingertips lingered on the cool skin, wiping away drops of water as he returned his gaze. It was just too tempting, he was so close…

He took a deep breath, fighting to stay strong. Newkirk had no idea what he was doing to him with jokes like that.

"What?", he feigned ignorance, his voice sounding strained even in his own ears.

"Don't you want to kiss me?", Newkirk repeated without breaking eye contact. He wasn't laughing anymore.

Hogan bit his lip, holding back with all the restraint he had left. There were no words for how much he wanted to do just that. But he knew it wouldn't be right. He knew Newkirk wasn't thinking clearly.

Why had he had to bring it up now, why in this way? He knew they needed to talk but he had hoped that could wait till morning. Apparently not.

"It´s… not a matter of what I do or don't want", he said softly: "But I will never kiss you without your consent again."

He couldn't possibly imagine that Newkirk would ever want to be close to a man again after what Richter had just put him through. To his surprise though, the Englishman still wouldn't leave well enough alone.

"Who says I´m not consenting?", he asked, grasping Hogan's hand and pressing it closer to his face. He couldn't have looked more earnest, or more shaken. If he knew what he was doing, it unsettled him at least as much as Hogan.

Still his grip was insistent, refusing to let up. He looked so drenched and lost that it was heartbreaking.

"Newk…Peter…", Hogan sighed, knowing that calling him by his first name didn't exactly help maintain boundaries, but the situation felt simply too intimate for the way he usually addressed him: "You can´t consent to anything in your condition. You are hypothermic with a concussion and probably uncountable broken bones. You almost died not ten minutes ago. You're in shock. Tomorrow it will all be back to normal."

But Newkirk shook his head vehemently. He looked like he was about to drop from exhaustion, but wouldn't let himself until this was cleared up: "No, this isn't just on the spur of the moment. I meant to talk to you before…I…I don't think I would mind…"

He paused, as if not quite sure how to phrase what he wanted to say while Hogan just stared at him, incredulously, scared to even breathe. Could he really mean that…?

"I´m not sure…I wanted to ask you…but…it´s confusing…", Newkirk rubbed his eyes in exhaustion, taking a deep, shaky breath.

Hogan dreaded the moment he allowed hope to flare up inside of him, however small, but it did nonetheless. He tried to fight it down, telling himself that this didn't mean anything. But Newkirk seemed so clear, so serious…

But he just knew it would hurt so much more come morning if he let himself believe just because Newkirk was unstable right now.

So he simply smiled, lightly tracing a hand over the side of his face in a soothing manner:

"Don't worry about it now. It´s the stress."

"Bollocks."; Newkirk frowned immediately: "Stress is normal for us. This…I think I would like you to try it again…so that I know for sure…"

And suddenly, Hogan couldn't help but smile. He wouldn't have cared even if it had been another authentic lie, in this moment all he felt was peace and joy. His fingers moved to stroke the other mans cheek tenderly, smiling warily at him.

What did he care about tomorrow? Happiness came in small doses, and he had needed one for weeks now.

"Maybe we can talk about it again when we are back in camp and you've gotten some hot tea and sleep.", he gave in, his heart warming when Newkirk finally smiled faintly.

He nodded, then his eyes dropped and he had to suppress a yawn. Hogan chuckled softly, lightly resting his chin on Newkirk´s head. He, too, was feeling his own exhaustion more than ever. Now, with nothing left to fear, he could finally relax.

"The others will be here soon, just hold on for a little while longer."; he murmured: "Are you feeling cold?"

Newkirk nodded sleepily, edging closer still: "Yeah, but it's not so bad now. You´re warm…Just don't let me go…"

"I won´t.", Hogan whispered into his hair, repeating it to make sure he´d heard it: "I won´t."

They sat huddled together in silence then, Hogan carefully rubbing the other´s arms to get the blood running though them again.

Newkirk dozed off after a while, his head falling easily into the crook of Hogan's neck.

And Hogan sat on the muddy ground, bleeding and shivering from where Newkirk´s wet hair grazed his neck. He sat there with his eyes closed and hummed a familiar tune until he could hear the faint voices of LeBeau, Carter and Kinch in the distance, quickly coming closer.

Still he didn't move, didn't open his eyes or relax his hold, for just a moment holding on to the sensation of his own mangled and twisted fragment of happiness.

* * *

The End.

**Notes: **

I know, Newkirk didnt really tell Hogan about Richter but I think thats better for him in the long run.

Kinch is part of an open ending, who knows maybe he will come around after all. At least he didnt abandon his friends.

Anyway, thank you all so much for reading and reviewing the story! I´m going to miss writing it. See ya :-)


End file.
